


Gone Girl || IT Fanfiction

by Peppermintxcrazy



Category: IT (2017), IT - Stephen King
Genre: Childhood Trauma, Friendship, Horror, Other, Post-Traumatic Stress Disorder - PTSD, Siblings, Trauma
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2018-09-20
Updated: 2019-05-10
Packaged: 2019-07-14 22:07:13
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence, Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 20
Words: 33,576
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16049528
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Peppermintxcrazy/pseuds/Peppermintxcrazy
Summary: It: Chapter One ⇻ It: Chapter TwoThere's an emptiness to Catherine "Kit" Tozier that confuses the town of Derry, no one moreso than her brother Richie. A ghost of her former lively self, Kit is just trying to get through one day at a time in the company of the Bowers gang. She thinks that her childhood is over. But the almost sixteen year old will learn that her childhood still has a firm grasp on her, making her a target.Children are going missing, and when Kit gets caught up in the horrors that hide beneath the surface of Derry, she will have to return to reality if she wants to beat the monster and protect those she loves.





	1. - Chapter One -

** \- C A S T - **

Kaya Scodelario  **as**  Catherine "Kit" Tozier

Jaeden Lieberher **as**  William "Bill" Denbrough

Bill Skarsgård  **as**  It / Pennywise the Dancing Clown

Wyatt Oleff  **as**  Stanley "Stan" Uris

Jeremy Ray Taylor  **as**  Benjamin "Ben" Hanscom

Sophia Lillis  **as** Beverly "Bev" Marsh

Finn Wolfhard  **as**  Richard "Richie" Tozier

Jack Dylan Grazer  **as** Edward "Eddie" Kaspbrak

Chosen Jacobs  **as**  Michael "Mike" Hanlon

 

** \- P L A Y L I S T - **

_** Chapter One ** _

Thousand Eyes - Of Monsters and Men  
_"I lie awake and watch it all//It feels like a thousand eyes."_

Ease - Troye Sivan  
_"Take me back to the basics and the simple life//Tell me all of the things that make you feel at ease."_

Teen Idle - Marina and the Diamonds  
_"The wasted years, the wasted youth."_

Blush - Wolf Alice  
_"Curse the things that made me sad for so long//Yeah it hurts to think that they can still go on."_

_Get Free - Lana Del Rey  
 _"I never really noticed that I had to decide//To play someone's game or live my own life."__

Overgrown - Oh Wonder  
_"And in the middle of the night when you're on your own//I'm chasing down light in the indigo//It's just the way you are when you're overgrown//And I will never let you go."_

The Yawning Grave - Lord Huron  
_"I know the rain like the clouds know the sky."_

Foreigner's God - Hozier  
_"Screaming the name of a foreigner's God//The purest expression of grief."_

Ribs - Lorde  
_"And I've never felt more alone//It feels so scary, getting old."_

 

**_[ "A memory of summer, Cathy?" ]_ **


	2. The Not-Writer

I am not a writer. I never have been. It's not my kind of artform. 

Give me a paintbrush or some charcoal, along with a canvas or some good quality sketch paper, and I can give you a thousand pieces of art. Give me a pencil and tell me to write some words, and I can give you this: A big old wordy mess. 

But words are easier to use when it comes to this. If I were to draw it out I think the creations may slip off the page and come to life. Let the images live in my mind, at least I know how to keep them hidden. I can control them in there. I don't want to see them with my own eyes, though. Not again. 

I can hear Richie downstairs. From what I can pick up it sounds like he's setting up the easel he and our parents brought for today. I've known about it for the past week now, all three of them are terrible at hiding things - I don't even think our parents tried - but I'll act as surprised as I was when I first found out. Hearing him downstairs, cluttering about and swearing like a sailor makes me grin. I used to cringe at his foul language, wondering where the Hell he picked it up from. It couldn't have been our parents, when are they ever around if it isn't someone's birthday or Thanksgiving or Christmas? Probably school, that's where most kids pick it up from. Nowadays, though, I'm thankful to hear it. After everything we've been through... 

And not just us. The others as well, our little Losers club. And all the other kids who probably saw or heard things too. And then... Well, the victims of course. They got the worst of It. 'It' with a capital 'I' is no grammar mistake, by the way. They really did get the worst of It.

Sorry. Morbid jokes like that are nothing to laugh about. Richie and I obviously share in our sense of humour. I won't do it again. 

But yeah, I'm happy to hear Richie swear. I'm happy to be sitting on my bed and writing this down. I'm happy. First time in years I'm happy. 

But that's part of our story, the whole "why were you not happy?" thing. So I guess with that little arc, I might as well start. 

It began hundreds of years ago apparently, but for the purpose of this story we'll just be focusing on the most recent attack. For the people of Derry and one boy in the Losers Club, it began on a rainy day in October, 1988. It began with Georgie, and what happened to him... 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Let IT begin...


	3. The Last Day

Her hands were stained red. 

That was the problem with the school's paint supply: they had a thing for staining the skin. Usually Kit was careful with the paint in art class, either getting it on the canvas or her apron. Today, however, she had decided to use her hands for this piece. It was a sacrifice she was willing to make. Anyway, it wasn't like the boys would care. If anything they would think it was badass. 

 _Think?_  She thought, looking at her finished artwork. _Do they ever think?_  She would've smirked at that in the past, but the thought came and went like a gust of wind without stirring even the corner of her lips.

"And what have you got for us today, Kit?" Mrs McCane smiled at the teenager, looking the piece up and down. 

"Nothing crazy today. Just a sunset in Europe from a family holiday a few years ago," Kit replied as she continued packing her things up, pausing. It was a brief moment, one that Mrs McCane or anyone else would've missed as they weren't watching properly. If someone had, they would've noticed the way Kit clenched her eyes or the shiver that ran down her spine. But it was only a brief moment. 

"You've blended the colours in very prettily, Kit. It looks as though it's lying at the bottom of a crystal clear lake, creating a sort of rippled effect," Mrs McCane mused, head tilted to the side.

"I was going for a bit of an impressionist thing, but added a little twist to it."

"The twist is good. The twist is you," Mrs McCane turned and smiled at her student. She would never admit this out loud, but out of all her art students Kit was one of the best. She didn't just do the work she was told to do. She would do it and then take it further and make it her own. Mrs McCane was certain that if Kit managed to get out of Derry and into an artistic city, she could become something big one day. The young teenager put away the last of her things, going back over to her teacher and giving the piece of art one last look. 

"It can stay over the summer, right? You don't mind? I mean, it has to dry and everything so..."

"That's fine, Kit, absolutely fine," Mrs McCane answered, jumping slightly when the school's bell went off. "Well, that's it then! Holiday time. What have you got planned for the summer, Kit? Apart from creating more beautiful pieces of art."

"Honestly? Nothing, really. Just hang about at home, in town," Kit replied, chucking her satchel over her shoulder with a shrug. "Waste it so that when school starts again I can spend a few weeks complaining about how much I miss Summer and how I wish it were back."

The art teacher gave a little chuckle at that, rolling her eyes.

"Well, have fun doing that then, Kit. I'll see you for Junior year in September," Mrs McCane smiled. The student nodded before saying farewell and disappearing into the streaming crowds of kids. 

After retrieving the last of her things from her locker Kit weaved her way through the hallway, a ghost to most of the students. However, the younger ones always seemed to watch her. Richie had told her once it was because of her reputation.

"Nothing bad," he had said while he watched tv and she studied in the kitchen. "They're just curious about you. Think you're a little weird but in a cool way. Also a bit scary, but that's probably because of the dickholes you hang out with."

She could deal with their stares. She could deal with their talk. As Richie had said, it wasn't bad. Anyway, there were worse things one could do or say. She knew this to be true. 

"Hey, hey! Kit!"

She was outside now, the heat of the sun making her uncomfortable. Although the sleeves on her dress were made of a thin material, they were still sleeves. The urge to roll them up came over her but she pushed it away. There was no need for that. 

"Kit! What are you, deaf?"

"Being deaf would be better than being you," Kit shot back, stopping and turning around. Richie's eyes rolled behind his large glasses and he held up his hand, pulling the finger at his older sister. With him were his three friends, kids Kit had known since they had started Kindergarten. Eddie waved a greeting in her direction, his asthma inhaler in hand. Stan was a little shyer, giving her a little smile with rosy cheeks. 

"H-hey Kit," Bill said, his eyes meeting the older girl's. Although he looked fine on the outside, Kit knew the eyes she was staring into. She had seen them in her own mirror many times before. 

"Me and the others are gonna hang out for a bit, can you take my bag home?" Richie interrupted, holding his bag out towards his sister. 

"What am I, a pack mule? It's light as a feather, carry it with you," Kit said, pushing it back toward him. The younger Tozier grumbled beneath his breath as he put his bag back on before turning back to his friends. Whatever conversation he was going to start, however, was suddenly interrupted. 

"Nice frisbee, flamer."

"Give it back!" Stan snapped, before the older boys started mocking and shoving the younger group. One of them, the tallest of the four, made his way over to her, snaking his arm around her waist and planting a kiss on her cheek.

"Hey babe, whatcha doing hanging out with these losers?" Patrick asked, his fingers gripping her hip. His words were echoed by two of the other boys: the large and looming Belch, and the smaller yet equally mean Victor. The final teenager didn't say a word, staring down at Kit with a grimace before giving Bill one more shove. To everyone's surprise, Bill spoke up.

"You s-s-s-suck, Bowers."

Silence fell over the group, only broken by the nervous whispers of Bill's friends behind him. The look of anticipation in the eyes of the older boys made Kit want to stamp on their feet, but she didn't. She was as still as a statue, her tongue held as she watched Henry step towards Bill.

"Did you s-s-s-say something, B-b-b-b-Billy?" he asked mockingly, before straightening up and standing right in front of Bill. "You got a free ride this year cuz of your little brother. Ride's over, Denbrough. This summer is gonna be a hurt-train, for you and your faggot friends."

Kit thought that Henry would've done more. However, after a pause he left Bill with nothing but a face smeared with his own spit. Kit cast her gaze past Henry and Bill to where, a few yards away, stood one of Derry's officers. Mr Bowers looked away when his son took a step back from the younger kids. 

"Let's go. Tozier, with us," Henry ordered. Kit let herself get dragged away with them, hearing the short exchange of words passed between Stan and Richie.

"Why does your sister hang out with those jerks? Why does she date one of them?"

"She's stupid. They're not the Bowers gang, they're the - the stupid gang."

"What the fuc-" Patrick began, turning around to face the younger boys. Before he could say anything else though Kit's hands were on his shoulders and spinning him back around, pushing him forward. He looked down at her, eyebrows furrowed together and a curl to his lip that wasn't there before. "Did you hear what they-"

"Leave it, Pat," Kit interrupted, looking up at him with eyes that left no room for argument. "What, you think I can't handle shit talk? Let's go, leave them be."

Pat frowned at her words but he didn't speak again, instead throwing his arm over her shoulders and pulling her close against his side. With his hand he tugged on the sleeve of her dress until she lifted her hand to his, lacing their fingers together. He stared at her hand, a curious smile spreading across his face as they followed the others.

"You've got red on you." 


	4. The Bowers Gang

She was their drug dealer. 

Two years ago when she had returned from her family holiday, Kit had gone to Derry's local dealer and spent the rest of her holiday money on a bag of weed. Later on that day she had made her way to the quarry where Henry and the boys had been. She could remember that day clearly: Summer had just ended but it's fingers still gripped the town in heat. Kit had been wearing a sleeveless dress, her tanned arms shining in the sun. The boys had been surprised to see her approaching them that afternoon, bag on her back and a frown on her face. She never paid them any attention at school, and whenever they tried to push her or her friends around she always had some  witty retort to shoot back at them. She was fast, too, easily able to dodge them if she pushed them too far. But now she was there, standing in front of them. 

"Cathy Tozier, what the fuck are you doing here?" Henry had asked while his friends watched, sly smiles on their face.

"Don't call me Cathy. It's Kit. And I've got something for you guys," Kit replied. A chorus of wolf whistles suddenly filled the area.

"Cathy's putting out!" Victor jeered. Kit didn't miss the way Henry's eyes looked her up and down and with a scowl she took a step back.

"No, you fuckwits. And I'll repeat what I said before, Victor, seeing as you're a dumbass: It's  _Kit_ ," she had snapped, reaching into her bag and pulling out the weed. The boys had stopped their jeering then, and Kit had been secretly pleased to see how surprised they were at what she was offering. Patrick had walked over to her then, snatching the bag from her and peering inside.

"Henry, it's fucking  _real_ ," he had said, staring at his friend before looking back at Kit. "How the hell did you get your hands on this?"

"I asked," Kit said sarcastically. Henry took the bag from Patrick, having a look for himself, before he gazed down at Kit. 

"What the fuck changed you while you were on holiday?" He asked, his voice low. Kit hadn't answered, but in the end it didn't matter. Since that day Kit had become part of the Bowers gang.

Kit was older and colder now, the boys older and crueler. The whole town knew of their reputation of being the bullies of Derry, but not once had Kit ever taken part in the boy's games. She was the watcher who would stand a few meters away from the action. Sometimes she'd sit in the car with Henry's music blaring to ignore the roughhousing happening outside. Other days, however, she would act as the voice of reason. That was who she was playing today. 

"Guys, this is fucked up. You can't just chuck a kid in your car and drag him out here," Kit complained, growing weary of the sound of the new kid yelling from the boot of Henry's car. Her concerns were met with groans from the boys and a jolt from Patrick's knee beneath her. 

"Chill, babe, we're just having a bit of fun," Patrick grinned, squeezing her thigh. She slapped at his hand and made to move off his knees, but he was quick to pull her back on. "Where else are you gonna sit? On Victor?"

"Pass her over, Pat, I'll make her feel  better," Victor said, reaching for her. With a scowl Patrick shoved his hands away.

"Fuck off."

"Fuck  _you_ ," Kit snapped. "Fuck both of you." She leaned forward towards the front, staring at Henry as he sped down the road. "Let him out, Henry. This is stupid."

"Don't be a pussy, Tozier," Henry replied with no intention of pulling over. Kit gritted her teeth together, eyeing Henry carefully. She had to play her cards carefully with their group leader.

"Come on, this is so boring! Can't we - can't we just dump him outside of town? Get him to walk back in? We don't have to take him to the kissing bridge and rough him up."

"Why? Jesus, Tozier,  _that_ sounds boring," Henry muttered, his hands tightening around the steering wheel. "Sit the fuck down. We're taking him to the bridge."

With a frown Kit sat on Patrick's knees again, pushing his hands away when he tried to wrap them around her. In the boot of the car she could still hear the new kid yelling.  _I don't even know his name_ , she thought guiltily. She could hear her brother's voice in her head as they drove.  _It's because she's stupid_ , he had said. But there was a method in her so-called stupidity. There was a reason for what she had been doing for the past two years. In a weird and twisted way, she actually felt safe with the boys. 

But the new kid was still yelling.

Kit started rummaging through her back, pulling out her lighter. Noticing her movements in the rearview mirror, Henry reached behind and tapped his hand against her leg, making her jump away from his touch. Patrick let out a small growl, kicking at Henry's hand.

"How many times-" Patrick began until Henry interrupted.

"Shut up. I was getting her attention. Roll us one, Tozier."

Without a word Kit pulled out the rest of her things, rolling each boy their own blunt before lighting them and passing them over. While they started on their blunts she pulled out a cigarette from her tin, putting it between her lips. She was about to light it but Patrick was faster, pulling out his own and igniting the tip of it for her. 

"You know I'd never let them touch you the way I do, right?" He whispered into her ear. Kit was silent for a moment, inhaling deeply before blowing out the cigarette smoke so that it mingled with the weed. 

"You say that like you've actually... touched me," she murmured. She watched as a blush crept onto the teenager's face and he shook his head. 

"No, I mean like this," he replied, placing his free hand on her thigh while his lips went to her neck. She could barely feel the touch of his hand and lips. She wondered if he found her cold.

"I'd never let them touch you like that, or in the... the other way. Not when I haven't even had the chance," he continued, snaking his hand up a little higher. With blue eyes locked on his Kit moved her free hand onto his, stilling his movement. She wasn't surprised to see a hint of disappointment in his eyes - he was always disappointed when she'd stop his advancements in trying to get in her panties. But Kit liked the fact that he did stop, always. 

He had asked her out in October the previous year, right before Georgie Denbrough disappeared. Out of all the boys in their group, he was the only one who had actually stepped up and asked her out. Kit knew that the others had had a thing for her since she joined their gang, and she was right. The boys thought that she was mysterious; after all this time together she still hadn't completely opened up to them. Plus she was their drug dealer and never charged them for the stuff she now grew and gave to them. It also helped that she was a bit of a looker: dark brown, almost black hair that was curly and hung past her shoulders, considerably tall for a girl, and a porcelain complexion that looked as though the Gods themselves had blessed her with clear skin. Her facial beauty was a little unconventional: a pointed chin, sharp cheekbones that made her cheeks look a bit hollow, thin lips, a strong nose, and eyes that looked ever so slightly too big. However it all worked for her. If anything, it made her look more mysterious in the boys - and everyone's - minds. Even her eyes were an intriguing colour: blue and grey with a hint of green, depending on the lighting. They were confusing and secretive and mysterious, just like her. And they all wanted her. However, only Patrick had asked, and she had said yes. 

But she'd be lying if she said she loved him.

"So protective," she said softly, before turning away from him and winding their window down. She put the cigarette back in her mouth and leaned out the window, blowing the smoke out. Henry was driving so fast she could hear the wind whipping past her head, almost drowning out Belch's words.

"I don't understand, you grow the drugs and yet you don't take them? You know that the green stuff is probably better for you than cigarettes? Less likely to kill you."

Kit almost smiled at his words. Almost. With a shrug she exhaled a lungful of smoke, her voice low when she responded.

"Exactly."

But her reply was swallowed by the wind, and whatever words the boys were saying now she could not hear. Two of her senses were distracted, her ears only hearing the car and wind, her eyes now captivated by the colour red. 

There was a red balloon floating in the grass on the side of the road.

Kit frowned, holding the cigarette between her fingers. The balloon stayed where it was, even when they had driven past it and Kit was looking back, it never moved. Only when they turned the corner did the balloon disappear from Kit's sight. And once it was out of her sight, it was out of her mind. All there was was the sound of the wind and the taste of her cigarette.

She couldn't hear the new kid yelling anymore. 


	5. Run And Go

"Hold him."

"Leave me alone!"

"Hit him!"

"You won't escape!"

"Help!"

"Hold him!"

Their voices overlapped one another now, their words fading as they grew louder. The new kid was pushed against the bridge railing, the four older boys cornering him. Kit watched from beside the car, her eyebrows drawn together while she nibbled on the skin of her thumb. She could hear the terror in the kid's voice, hear his fear. He kept calling for help, yelling as loud as he could to no avail. She had caught his eye when Henry had dragged him out of the boot of the car. There was a silent pleading in his wide eyes, a look that made Kit think of puppies. But Patrick had hit him when he had caught him staring at her, and he hadn't looked her way since. 

Kit watched as the boys continued their roughhousing, walking towards them when she saw Patrick pull out his lighter and bug spray. She  _hated_ his obsession with fire. He thought it made him look cool, like one of those people who could breathe fire. She thought it was a waste of both bug spray and lighter fluid. She also found it quite childish, but he had assured her that only badass people did that kind of thing. She had rolled her eyes at that, but let the subject fall afterwards. 

"I'm gonna light his hair like Michael Jackson," Patrick grinned, showing off his pyrotechnics.

" _Don't_ light his hair like Michael Jackson," she complained, giving him a shove. He turned around and looked at her, grinning wolfishly. Before them the kid continued to struggle, looking helplessly at the group of older kids. However, Kit noticed how he suddenly stopped focusing on them and started focusing on something past them. She looked over her shoulder and felt the blood from her face drain.  _Shit. Shit shit shit!_

But the car that was approaching them never stopped. Inside Kit saw the two elder people look their way. She knew what they must look like: a bunch of teenagers roughing up a kid. As adults Kit was expecting them to jump out of the car and tell them off. They didn't, though. Instead they continued to drive, and whatever hope there had been in the kid's eyes burst like a balloon-

There was a red balloon in the old people's car. 

Kit's eyes widened at this sight, a strange feeling passing over her.  _Maybe I'm a little high. Can one get high off the smoke of others?_  Even though the car was gone now, as was the balloon, Kit felt as though they were being watched. She took a step closer to Patrick, tugging on his arm and leaning against him. She looked over each one of the boy's faces, trying to see if any of them felt the same, but they were all looking at the kid, and the kid was looking at her. With a jolt she realized that what she was looking for could only be found on his face.  _He saw it too._

"Okay new kid. This is why us locals call this the kissing bridge," Henry began, glaring intensely at the kid. "It's for two things: Sucking face-" With this Patrick threw his arm around her and kissed her cheek hard, making Kit wince and Belch and Victor laugh. Henry didn't laugh, though, his eyes never leaving the new kid's as he reached into his pocket and pulled out a knife.

" -and cutting names."

"Wait, woah, that is - that's super fucking dark, Henry," Kit suddenly piped up, pulling away from Patrick and staring fearfully at the knife. Henry didn't acknowledge her, instead getting the boys to hold the kid still as he started fighting against them again. He lifted the kid's shirt up, trailing the knife across his stomach. Kit could see clearly in her mind what damage that knife would cause, rivers of red flashing through her mind. With a gasp she pushed forward, grabbing Henry's arm and pulling him away from the kid.

She hadn't been thinking, of course. If she had, then she would've known how great a mistake it was to try and stop Henry from doing what he wanted. Especially if you tried to physically stop him. No sooner had she grabbed his arm did he break loose and turn on her. He shoved her up against the railing, making her lean back and away from the knife he was currently holding against her throat. 

"Henry!" Patrick snarled, although Kit noticed how he never actually made a move to get the teenager off her. With a curled lip Henry glared down at her.

"You're really getting on my fucking nerves today, Tozier. Keep it up and I'll have to teach you a lesson," he growled. Kit felt him press the tip of his knife against her throat, softly dragging it down over her collarbone and to where the collar of her dress lay, tugging on it slightly. He inhaled deeply before pulling his knife away and shoving her towards Patrick. "Control your bitch, Hocksetter!" 

"Henry, please!" The new kid was screaming now, tears pooling in his eyes, while Kit struggled against Patrick's hold. She wanted to look away. She wanted to help him. This was far worse than anything else Henry had ever done before and she couldn't just stand by, not now.  _Why couldn't we have ditched him on the edge of town??_ In horror Kit watched as the new kid's shirt was lifted up, watched Henry move his knife towards the boy's flesh, watched as he began to carve -

_But it's about the feeling of control the feeling of actually feeling something there's no numbness no emptiness there's pain and honestly feeling pain is better than feeling nothing at all and then the wave of relief as the blood trickles down it's euphoric it's intoxicating it's all in control all feeling all in control all feeling all in control all -_

The letter 'H' had been carved into the boy's stomach, red and slick with blood. Henry looked at it proudly while Kit felt herself struggling to breathe. Seeming to actually care about her distress Patrick loosened his hold on her slightly, steading her. 

"It's just a bit of fun, babe," he murmured, words she had heard thousands of times before. She turned and faced him, eyes wide and bottom lip trembling. 

"It's not fun anymore," she gasped. Kit thought she saw something in his eyes then. A flicker of doubt, or perhaps a moment of realization that he'd finally noticed about her.  _Does he know my cold now? Has he seen a glimpse of my honesty?_ In truth, she did not know what exactly it was that she saw in his eyes then. In truth, she never would. Before she could really search those blue eyes for whatever was on Patrick's mind, there was a yell and suddenly the new kid was gone and Henry was doubled over groaning in pain. The teenagers leaned against the bridge railing and watched as the younger boy tumbled down the bank and out of sight. The boys seemed to be shocked and dumbfounded at his escape, continuing to stare. However Kit's heart was beating hard and she could still feel Henry's knife at her throat, still see the tears in the new kid's eyes, still hear his cries -

"Kit!"

And suddenly she was rolling down the bank, feeling dead leaves trap themselves in her hair and twigs pull and rip at her dress. The further she rolled down the bank the harder it was to hear the boys shouts, and the easier it became for her to realize what she had done. She had left them by choice. They wouldn't be very forgiving of that decision. Kit would've thought that she would've started thinking of an excuse for her actions:  _I went chasing after him while you idiots just stood and watched. I was going to bring him back so you could finish what you started, Henry. I followed him to see if he had died at the end._ But she realized that that wasn't what she wanted to do. She could still hear Richie's voice in her head calling her stupid.  _There's a reason, Richie, I swear,_ she thought,  _but fuck that reason for now. Where's the new kid? It's time to go._

It wasn't hard to find him. When her world had stopped spinning and she could see she found him standing and staring down at her with frightful eyes. She struggled up to her feet, brushing as much dirt as she could off her dress, before looking back up the hill.

"We...We have to go now," she said, turning back to him. He was still staring at her in shock, though. Kit frowned, pointing towards the trees. "We have to go now, kid. Henry, Patrick, the boys, they'll-"

"Get him!"

"Tozier, you traitor bitch!"

The voices of the boys were far away, but Kit knew that they would be here in a few short seconds. She stared up the bank, wondering if the far away moving figures she could see spiraling towards them were the boys or if she was just imagining them. She thought she saw Patrick's tall form slide into a pile of leaves -

"Come on!" The kid cried, grabbing her hand and pulling her away. Together the pair ran as  fast as they could, Kit hurrying the boy along whenever he started to slow. She had no idea where they were running and in what direction, but she knew that the further they ran the safer they would become. She could only imagine what Henry's fury would be like if he found them.  _He said he would teach me a lesson. Jesus, not even Patrick could save me from that._ This thought made Kit pump her legs even faster, making the poor boy beside her stumble as he struggled to keep up with the tall teenager. 

Kit didn't know how long they had been running for, but after awhile she swore that she could no longer hear the boys. She knew that their tracks would be safe from discovery; they had stumbled upon a shallow river and were now running through the water upstream. This area they were now in seemed familiar to Kit, so with that feeling she was sure that soon they would be somewhere near town and able to find help. The poor boy's shirt was stained with blood and Kit was certain that if they didn't get his wound clean anytime soon it would become infected. She flinched thinking about what Henry had done to him, feeling her arms pulsate with the memory. 

A few moments later when their running had slowed to a stumbling and tired jog, the boy fell into the river. 

"No, no, no, come on, get up," Kit gasped, leaning down and trying to help the boy up. However as soon as she had stopped running and made to lean over, her legs gave out from under her and she ended up on her knees beside him with no desire to stand again. She pulled the boy up into a sitting position but made no effort to get him to his legs. Instead she felt her lungs trying to relax and regain strength, her heart hammering hard. Her legs hurt, and her head, and her ribs felt bruised. She just wanted to lie down -

"Holy shit, what happened to you?"

With a start both the new kid and Kit turned towards the origin of the voice. Standing at the entrance of a sewer tunnel was Eddie, Stan, Bill, and Richie, all who were staring at the other two in surprise. With a sigh of relief and exhaustion Kit beckoned for them to come over. 

"Help him," she asked, and quickly the boys rushed over, three of them helping the kid to his feet while Richie helped his sister up. 

"What the fuck is going on? And why are you with - whoever that is?" He asked as the group began to move. Kit looked at her feet, watching how the water passed over her shoes and gave them a rippled effect. 

"I think it's safe to say that I'm unwelcomed in the Bowers gang now."


	6. Town Talk

Eddie hadn't stopped speaking since Kit and the new kid - whose name they discovered was Ben - had bumped into the group. He hadn't managed to get much information out of Ben, who still seemed too shocked from his ordeal, but Kit had been a little more helpful. She had filled him in on how she and Ben had ended up together in the first place, answering one question that had been hanging around the boys. However, she had fallen silent when Richie had asked about why she had allowed Henry and his friends to kidnap Ben in the first place. Eddie didn't seem to notice her silence at her brother's question, however, his mouth continuing to move and words continuing to spew out from it.

"I think it's great that we're helping the new kid but we also need to think about our own safety," he was saying as they got into town, arriving in an alleyway beside the pharmacy. "I mean, he's bleeding all over and you guys know there's an AIDS epidemic happening right now as we speak. I mean my mom's friend in New York City got it just by touching a dirty pole in the subway and she got AIDS blood into her system through a hangnail, a hangnail! But did you know that they can amputate legs and arms? But how do you amputate a waist? You know that there are alleys full of AIDS infected needles, right? You know that?"

"Richie, wait here," Bill said as they helped Ben take a seat against the wall. Together he, Stan, and Eddie ran out into the main street, disappearing around the corner.

"Glad I got to meet you before you died," Richie told Ben with a smile, making Kit scrunch up her face. He caught her look and threw up his hands. "What?!"

"Honestly, the things you say," she replied, both confused and bewildered by her brother. Some of the things he would say still had the ability to surprise her, despite the fact that she had been living with him since the day he had been born. Sometimes she thought that she had him figured out: he was just her kid brother who lived in a house where their parents didn't pay them much attention, so he used his words to get it from others in some not so conventional ways. Sometimes, though, he still managed to surprise her. With a slight wince she sat down beside Ben and let out a deep sigh before looking at him.

"You're... You're not going to die," she murmured. The boy smiled at that, albeit weakly. Kit had to be honest, he looked horrible. Everytime she looked at him all she could see was his bleeding stomach and the pure fear in his eyes.

"He might die. Just don't get blood on me is all I'm asking," Richie said, interrupting his sister's thoughts. Kit shot a dirty look in his direction, nose scrunched up at his comment, before she turned back to Ben.

"Listen, kid - Ben. About what happened... I'm sorry I didn't try and stop them. I just..." Kit trailed off, unable to hold her gaze with the younger boy. She felt sick inside, like someone had punched her in the stomach. She could still hear his screams as the knife cut into him, or his banging from the trunk of Henry's car. The very thought of Henry made Kit squeeze her eyes shut.  _They're going to kill me. They're going to hate me for deserting, and they're going to kill me for it._ A part of her hoped that maybe Patrick would stop them from doing that, but then she remembered how he had acted at the bridge when Henry had grabbed her.  _He said he'd never let them touch me, and yet he let it happen. He didn't even try to fight Henry._  But Kit couldn't bring herself to fully blame Patrick. She hadn't done nearly enough in trying to get him to stop hurting Ben, or all the other kids he would bully at school. She swallowed, feeling her throat tighten up. She almost thought that Henry's hand was wrapped around it, squeezing it tight.  _They're going to kill me._

"Hey," Ben said, capturing Kit's attention by placing one hand on her wrist. She turned and looked towards him, surprised to see him smiling at her. "I... I don't blame you. I don't think it's your fault. You were just as scared as I was, I bet. It's okay."

"I..." Kit trailed off before nodding softly. "Thank you. I'm still really sorry, but thank you."

"So what does that mean, Kit?" Richie asked, looking at his sister curiously. "You really are done with Henry and the others?"

Maybe he thought it wasn't noticeable, but there were some things Kit could see in her brother that others could not. She did not miss the way he swallowed after his sentence or how he leaned forward slightly, expectant of a good answer. She did not miss the hope in his wide eyes. With shock she realized only then just how much Richie must've hated her hanging out with the Bowers gang. She always felt bad whenever Henry and his boys would mess with Richie and his mates, but most of the time she was able to keep them from doing too much harm to them. But they were still bullies, and her brother and his friends were - in all honesty - nerds. Easy targets. And here she was fraternizing with the enemy.  _I have my reasons for what I do - did_ , she wanted to say. She wanted to explain her actions, get him to understand. However Ben was looking at her too, waiting for an answer, and what she wanted to say was both choked up in her throat and too much for boys their age to hear. Especially Richie. She wasn't going to tell her little brother the methods behind her apparent madness.

"I think I am," Kit finally replied. "I mean, at least with Henry. I... I have to speak to Pat. Pat's different."

"Oh," Richie responded, and it hurt Kit to see a bit of his hope die in his eyes. He recovered quickly though, kicking a pebble towards the wall. "Different in what way? More of a dumbass than all the others? Do you like his hair?"

"Shut up," Kit muttered, making Ben chuckle slightly.

"So are, are you two siblings?" He asked, gesturing between the pair. Richie grinned, puffing out his chest.

"Yeah, but I'm the cool one. Kit's just-"

"The intelligent one," she interrupted, raising an eyebrow towards her brother who scoffed.

"Not fucking likely," he replied. Kit let out a gasp, shaking her head.

"Very fucking - why do you swear so much?!" Kit complained, throwing her arms up in the air. Richie shrugged.

"It's badass, like me."

"Jesus..." Kit murmured, but she could feel the corner of her mouth pulling upwards at her brother's comment. Before she could reply the boys were back, arms filled with different medical equipment, and she stood up to give them room to work. She had to give it to Eddie, he knew his first aid. That was to be expected, however, being the son of a mother who was so fearful of everything  that posed a risk to one's health. She hadn't noticed that Bill had split away from the group until he returned with a certain redhead. 

"Are you okay? That looks like it hurts," Beverly Marsh said, staring at Ben with eyebrows furrowed.

"No, I'm good. I just fell," Ben replied, ever the trooper. With a scoff Richie added.

"Yeah, right into Henry Bowers!" Kit spun her head towards her brother, tilting it to the side and widening her eyes.

"Shut it, R-R-Richie!" Bill stammered, glaring at Kit's little brother. With a frown Kit turned back towards Beverly, looking at her intently. She - like the rest of the town - had heard the talk that surrounded the girl. It used to come up every time she would pass in sight of Henry and the other boys.  _"She's easy,"_ Henry would brag with a shit-eating grin. Apparently she had slept with half the boys in school. Apparently she was a flirt. Whore, dirty, filth, promiscuous, slut, all these words had been applied to Beverly Marsh. However Kit found that hard to believe. Kit knew what those kind of girls were like at Beverly's age. She knew what the whores looked like or acted like. Even the girls who were a peg down from that, the "You can look but you can't touch" teases. She knew them very well, considering that had been her at Beverly's age. No, there was something hesitant in Beverly that Kit always noticed whenever the girl was around. Even now, as she spoke to the boys and seemed to avoid eye contact with Kit, she was guarded. When she finally did lock eyes with Kit, there was no fear about who Kit was connected to, nor any sign that she was indeed the town tart everyone talked her up to be. She just looked like a kid.

"We were maybe thinking about going to the q-q-q-quarry tomorrow, if you wanna..." Bill was now saying, bringing Kit back to the conversation. 

"Come?" Beverly finished with a smile. "Good to know. Thanks."

With a little wave Beverly headed off, the talk turning to her as soon as she had disappeared from sight. 

"Nice going, bringing up Bowers in front of her," Stan said to Richie.

"Yeah, did you hear what she did?" Eddie added, earning a confused look from Ben.

"What'd she do?" he asked.

"More like who'd she do. I heard the list is longer than my wang," Richie replied, gesturing obscenely. 

"That's not saying much," Stan muttered as Kit gave Richie a light shove.

"Ow, hey! What was that for?" Richie groaned, glaring at his sister. Kit stared with piercing eyes, one eyebrow raised. 

"One, that was super gross and I can't believe you just did that in front of me. And two, there's no need for you to be saying that kind of stuff about her. Personally, I think all the talk is fake. People get bored in a town this small. They make things up," Kit said, earning a nod of agreement from Bill. 

"They're j-j-just rumors," Bill said. Richie shrugged before continuing, looking at Ben.

"Anyway, Bill had her back in third grade. They kissed in the school play. The reviews said that you can't fake that kind of passion."

While the boys continued working on Ben, Kit stood to the side thinking about Beverly. She wondered how the rumors of her supposed promiscuous behaviour began, and how the young girl was handling it. When Kit had first started hanging out with the Bowers gang she remembered how little rumors had spread about her. They hadn't been to the same extent as those that dogged Beverly, however Kit had found them incredibly upsetting. That was the last thing she wanted to do, and for people to accuse her of doing it with the whole Bowers gang - sometimes all at once - made her physically sick. She frowned at the thoughts before realizing that she was being watched.

"Stan?" she acknowledged the younger boy who was currently standing in front of her. He smiled slightly, coming to stand next to her and casting his gaze towards the group of boys.

"You know, you should come to the quarry too tomorrow," he said, not making eye contact with her. 

"Oh? Are you sure that's all right with the others?" she asked, casting a glance at Richie. She was certain he would throw a fit if his older sister were to accompany him to the quarry. 

"It'll be fine. And anyway, it would probably be... safe, if you did. I don't think Henry and the others will be around there. You'll be less likely to bang into them," Stan replied with a little shrug. Kit tugged at the sleeves of her dress, frowning.

"I, um, I don't swim."

"Oh, but... But you took swimming lessons until you were thirteen?" Stan said, looking at her now.

"Yeah, but what I mean is that I... I just don't swim," Kit murmured. She had to admit, the crestfallen look on Stan's face made Kit's stomach twist uncomfortably. She quickly changed her response. "But, um, I'd still be happy to come and watch. The quarry's a great place to sunbathe, right? That's- I'll do that."

"Oh! Well yeah, do that. That'll be great!" Stan said with a large smile before he coughed and looked away. "I mean, it'll be nice for you to hang out with us and not have to worry about, you know.."

"Yeah. Yeah, thanks for the offer, Stan," she replied, giving the kid a little nudge with her elbow before walking towards the larger group. She might not have been looking at him at the time, but Stan was looking at her, and he didn't look away until the group were ready to leave.  


	7. The Losers Club

The boys were spitting off the cliff and being totally gross about it. Every time Kit heard the rough draw of spit, followed by the tell-tale sound of it leaving their mouths and falling into the quarry below made her nose scrunch up.  She was beginning to regret joining the group. When Richie saw her that morning, dressed in a long-sleeved white dress with a satchel over her shoulder he hadn't thought for a minute that she would be following him. When she had, though, straight into their garage where she grabbed her old bike that she hadn't ridden for two years, he had lost his shit. The two had argued back and forth, Richie claiming that he didn't need his sister babysitting him, while Kit snapped back that the quarry was free for anyone to go to, so she could go wherever she pleased. They had only stopped when Kit threatened to tell all kinds of embarrassing stories to his friends if he didn't let her come. Now she was debating whether all of that was worth it. 

But the group had welcomed her happily when they saw her approach with Richie, and Stan had even said that he was happy she had come. He had doubted she would at first, he had admitted, but obviously that was unneeded because here she was now. 

Richie and Eddie had been arguing over whose loogie had gone the furthest or looked the fattest when Bill interrupted, asking who was going to jump in first. The distance was incredibly high, and even though Kit knew that it was safe to jump from - she had done it thousands of times when she was younger - it worried her a bit to see them all standing so close to the edge. What if something went wrong?

"I'll go!"

The voice had come from behind the boys, a few steps behind Kit herself. Beverly Marsh had arrived and, dumping her bike beside the others, she began unbuttoning her dress. With a look at Kit, she spoke.

"You're not changed?" she questioned. Kit shrugged at the younger girl's answer, tugging at her sleeves. 

"I don't swim."

"But you can swim?"

"Yes, of course."

"Well, okay then," Beverly smiled, stepping out of her dress before looking towards the boys. "Sissis."

With a cheeky grin Beverly began running towards the group, one hand shooting out and taking hold of Kit's wrist. Suddenly Kit felt herself jogging behind Beverly, part of her wondering why she was allowing herself to follow the younger girl. She could stop, if she wanted. She didn't have to let Beverly pull her along. She was about to protest, letting out a surprised "Oh!" as they approached the cliff edge, but something stopped her. In her head she heard the sound of laughter, one she hadn't heard for a long time, and whatever protest she had in her, whatever need she had to just put her heels down and stop, disappeared like fog. The two girls jumped, and behind her Kit heard one of the boys shout, "What the fuck!". With a screech Kit felt gravity moving in for the kill and together the two girls fell hand in hand towards the water below, Kit's dress billowing upwards. They hit the water in unison, the coolness of it instantly kissing away the heat upon Kit's skin, and for a moment the world was turquoise green. When the two girls surfaced, Beverly was beaming at Kit.

"We showed them," she giggled, and for the first time in years, Kit found herself smiling, bubbles of excitement rising in her chest. Beverly turned her attention up towards the top of the cliff. "Come on!"

With that prompt, the boys began to fall one by one into the water all around the two girls, and the smile that was on Kit's face cracked open to release a laugh. When Richie reached the surface of the water and caught his sister living in a moment of bliss, he thought the water had done something bad to his eyesight. But this wasn't a blurred, fake image. It was real. His sister was actually laughing.  _Holy shit_ , the younger Tozier thought, staring at his sister in shock.  _When was the last time she laughed? Let alone smiled? I can't remember. Holy shit._

For hours the group swam and played, making the most of their summer together. They had competitions to see who could swim down the furthest (Kit won) and another to see who could hold their breath underwater for the longest (Ben only just won; according to Richie, he only came second because he accidently swallowed water. After a retrial Ben still won). They splashed each other, Kit teaching the group how to make the water spurt like a geyser with clasped hands, and they had shoving competitions, however nobody ended up keeping track of who was winning. 

Sometimes Kit would find herself floating on top of the water, her dress and hair fanning out around her. Her thoughts would drift to the Bower's gang, specifically Patrick. She thought he would call her last night to demand an explanation as to what had happened the day before.  She had her response all planned out: she would call out Henry's actions and admit that the group had stepped over the line. She would tell him that she didn't want anything to do with the gang anymore, however she would be willing to talk about any future their relationship might have the next day alone with him if he wanted. She wasn't sure what his answer would have been to that. Sometimes Pat could be sweet to her, treating her like a proper princess. He would make her mixtapes, never push her limits, let her choose what drink they would share at the burger joint on the main street. He'd even stay at school late if she was working on something in her art class, sitting on the desk and complementing her creations, just passing the time with her. Then, of course, there were the aesthetically pleasing aspects of Patrick that would make any teenage girl blush. He was tall, he had a devilious smile, and - as Richie had mentioned the day before - he had fantastic hair. But there were times, such as yesterday, which would make Kit wonder why she let such a boy ever hold her hand. If he wasn't such a physcopath on occasions, she might've been tempted to give him a real, proper chance in the fight for her heart. Perhaps, if he was a better person, he could make her not so cold.  

But he never called, and Kit had gone to bed thinking that the gang must've been really angry with her if not even Patrick had given her a call. She worried about what would happen the next time she saw them. Derry was a small town, her bumping into them was inevitable. She was certain that she would be shown no mercy next time they met. Suddenly the water Kit floated upon would seem colder than it should be. 

However, one of the kids would eventually break her thoughts by flopping onto her floating form, dragging her beneath the water's surface until they'd both come back up gasping and choking and laughing, Kit grabbing whoever had done it to try and wrestle them back under. 

It was like that for hours until the group exited the water and headed for dry land to sunbathe themselves dry on hot rocks. Someone had brought a radio and, after tuning it right, the group sat in various spots soaking up the sun's rays while the music played. Kit had removed her dress so it could dry, however she had replaced it with a lightweight, long-sleeved kimono that she carried in case the weather got unbearable and she had to take her dress off. When she had first removed her dress at a safe distance away from the boys, she was sure she had heard them chittering to each other, only broken when Richie let out a loud groan followed by fast hisses that Kit missed the words to. When she had returned and found a perch just above the rock where Beverly had been sunbathing, she thought she caught all the boys besides Richie glancing her slender yet filled form up and down. However, it ended when she lay down on her stomach.

Now it seemed the young boys gazes were fixed upon Beverly who was sunbathing without a care in the world, one arm resting across her stomach. Kit almost wanted to laugh, noticing the innocent curiosity in each of their eyes. It wasn't a leer, the kind of look that would make any woman's skin crawl. It was just... pure. And funny. Even Richie looked surprise and perhaps even a little flustered, and he was the one who was always acting like Mr. Big Shot. When Beverly's head tilted towards the boys they all quickly looked away and Kit couldn't help but let out a snort. 

Ben was talking about something now that had gained the attention of the group, and with a little frown Kit sat up and moved closer to the group, wrapping her kimono around her tightly. 

"Why is it all murders and missing kids?" Richie asked, handing the book over to Kit when she held her hand out for it. It was true what Richie had said. Inside were cut out newspaper articles about murders, missing kids, arson attacks, and all kinds of other things that had occered in Derry. Ben replied to her brother, his tone changing to one of graveness. 

"Derry's not like any other town I've ever been in before. They did a study once, and it turns out people die or disappear six times the national average."

"You read that?" Beverly asked.

"And that's just the grown ups," Ben answered. "Kids are worse. Way, way worse.  I've got more stuff, if you wanna see it?"

Kit handed the book back to Ben, her eyebrows furrowed together. She'd rather not go back and have a look at all the weird, creepy facts that he had managed to find about her hometown. However, there wasn't really anything else to do, and she didn't feel like going home yet. Together the group got their things together and left the quarry, heading to Ben's house on their bikes. 

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> It's been strangely clown-free of late, hasn't it? Let's change that in the next chapter :)


	8. Him

As it turns out, despite all the history lessons Kit had taken at school, she really knew nothing about the town she lived in.

Ben's room had been covered in newspaper articles, photographs of missing kids, a pieces of maps depicting Derry throughout the years. He told the group about how, when the town had first been created, over ninety men went missing from the town. All that was left was a trail of blood leading to the old town well. Kit didn't understand how Ben could've spent his time researching these things - was there really nothing else more interesting and perhaps less creepy? Looking at what he had plastered to his walls, especially those missing posters, made her feel hollow. Kids had been going missing recently, look at Georgie. However, to see their pictures hung up next to each other made Kit realize just how many had gone missing those past few months.  _This is supposed to be a small town. How can so many kids go missing?_

After this, the group separated for the day. The sun was still high in the sky, but Kit knew that in a few short hours it would depart, drenching the town in cool darkness and taking away the heat and humidity. She never cared much for the sun. 

"So, do you think Ben might be insane?" Richie asked as they biked. Kit looked over at him, one eyebrow raised.

"What? Because of the posters? Dunno. I mean, he doesn't seem like it. He's just got a peculiar interest, that's all," Kit replied.

"Weird thing for a boy his age to be interested in," Richie said, making Kit scoff, shaking her head.

"So because he not interested in making weird, creepy comments about his wang or - or  _beaver trapping_  - he must be a freak?" Kit replied with a roll of her eyes.

"No! Well, actually -"

On the side of the road Kit caught sight of Patrick. Skidding to a stop Kit stared at where she saw him, lips parted slightly in a silent "oh". It took a moment for Richie to notice that his sister was no longer biking beside him. When he did he turned back around with a shout, asking why she had stopped. She didn't reply, instead hopping off her bike and walking over to where she saw her boyfriend.

Really, it wasn't him. It was his face. It was his face on one of those missing posters, so similar to the ones on Ben's wall.  _Ben didn't have this one though. A new one to add to his collection._

"Oh, shiiit," Richie drawled, catching sight of the poster his sister was now frozen in front of. He looked up at her, eyes wide with worry. She had that look on her face, the one she would get sometimes when she was deep in some troubling thoughts. Her grey eyes were glazed over, her face a far-away expression. He didn't like it when she looked like that. "K-Kit? Um, maybe we should go home?"

"I..." Kit licked her lips, staring at the picture. Dark eyes stared back at her. He had been so far away last time she had seen him. When was she this close to him last? So close she could reach out and touch his face?  _When Henry shoved me into his arms. When I told him it wasn't fun anymore._ She didn't love him. She was too cold for that. But this was Patrick, and he was missing, and why did she only just find out now? With a frown Kit picked up her bike. 

"I'm going over to the Hocksetter house. I need to know what happened," she told Richie, throwing a leg over the frame. 

"Kit, are you sure that's a good idea? Come on, let's just go home-"

"Just let me do this, please?" Kit interrupted, looking over her shoulder at him. "Please, just let me go talk to his parents. I'm not part of Henry's gang anymore, I promise. But we never spoke about what was to happen to us. He's still my boyfriend, I'm still his girlfriend. I just need to know what happened."

With drawn eyebrows and an almost solemn expression, Richie nodded stiffly. Swallowing, Kit turned away from her brother and began biking away.

Patrick lived seven streets over from hers, so it didn't take Kit too long to reach his house. When she arrived she saw that a familiar police car was parked out the front, the living room a flurry of activity from adults she either knew personally or had seen in the street occasionally. Dumping her bike on the front yard Kit walked quickly to the porch, knocking three times. After a few seconds the door was opened to reveal Patrick's mother.

"I, oh, Kit! It's you, dear, come-come in," she said, moving out of the way so the teenager could enter. Kit had only met Patrick's parents a handful of times, but she liked them both well enough. They cared for Patrick more than her parents seemed to care for her or Richie, which in truth wouldn't have been too much effort. However, they had always treated her nicely enough and seemed to like the effect she could have on Patrick, who his mother had told Kit multiple times was going through the whole "rebellious, angsty, dark side teenager" side of his life. 

"How are you?" Mrs Hocksetter asked as they walked towards the living room. 

"I saw the poster," Kit answered, cutting through the formalities. When she entered the living room she met eyes first with Mr Hocksetter, then with the two police officers who were standing beside him. One she had seen a few times, the other she knew well. She had seen Henry's dad often during her times as a member of his gang. "I don't understand. How did he go missing? What happened?"

"What happened?" Henry's father stepped towards her, and Kit had the brains to take a slight step back, her head mechanically tilting downwards. She knew that, in public, Chief Bowers was just that: a chief of police, serve and protect, all of that. But she had seen him when he was Mr Bowers, Henry's father. She had seen the ways in which he could make Henry crumple. She'd be lying if she said she didn't feel satisfaction at watching Henry tremble, however she disliked the way in which it would occur. Sometimes she'd wonder how Henry would have turned out had his father not been such a dick. 

"Apparently he went missing just off from the kissing bridge. Were you there when that happened, Miss Tozier?" Chief Bowers asked. She swallowed, looking up at him before staring towards Patrick's parents.

"Nobody told me he had gone missing. I didn't think... We... We had a fight at the bridge. I left him. I... Maybe I shouldn't have, but I didn't think he'd go missing. How could he? We were on... we were on the road," Kit replied, eyes flashing from adult to adult. All she could think about were the posters on Ben's wall. Bad things happen to kids who go missing. Bad things happen to kids who go for walks alone.  _But Patrick isn't a kid. He's my age. We're almost sixteen._

"Oh, honey, don't you blame yourself," Mrs Hocksetter said before looking at Chief Bowers. "Listen, I know you said you wanted to talk to us again, but we've still got posters to put up of our boy. We really can't-"

"I can do it for you," Kit interrupted. The adults looked at her in surprise. Kit continued on. "I want to help if I can. I... I want him to be found. I have to talk to him. I... I have to apologize. I shouldn't have left him like that." He had called her name when she had disappeared over the fence. She had almost seen something worth saving when they had locked eyes one last time. 

"O-Okay then, dear. Are you sure?" Mr Hocksetter was asking, but his wife had already placed a stack of fliers and some tape into her arms.

"Thank you so much, dear. Really, thank you," Mrs Hocksetter replied before turning away towards the other men. It took Kit a moment to realize that Patrick shared his mother's eyes. Without another word Kit disappeared from the room, catching eyes once more with Chief Bowers as she passed by the living room window.

She had plastered the posters all over town and now the sun was beginning to set, yet she still had several more to put up. She didn't realize how emotionally draining it would be, sticking up poster after poster of Patrick. Ben's words were constantly ringing through her ears.  _The kids are worse. Way, way worse._ But Patrick wasn't a kid, and he wouldn't be so dumb as to go get lost off from the kissing bridge. Like her, he had lived in Derry his whole life. No-one could get lost here even if they tried. If that was the case, though, where was he?  _Perhaps he ran away. Perhaps he decided he didn't want to be a part of Henry's gang anymore, but instead of staying to face the music, he decided to leave. He could've left me a phone call. Things need closure._ Kit frowned, parking her bike at the top of the grass hill and looking down towards the park. She hadn't put any up there yet. She knew it may be a little scary for parents to see missing posters up in a place where their children played, all innocent-eyed and bubbly, but maybe seeing them there would make them more aware of the dangers of Derry. Thinking of the words "danger" and "Derry" in the same sentence almost made Kit laugh, but she was sure she had used it all up at the quarry. Anyway, what Ben had told them earlier on that day just went to show how dangerous Derry must be. 

She put four posters up on the playground: one on the slide, one on the lamp post nearby, and two on the swings, one that she was currently sitting on. It was one of those basket ones that she could remember playing on with Richie when they were younger. Recently it had become a place where she and Patrick would sit together while the other three boys would muck about on the rest of the playground late at night. The boys would be getting high while she stuck to her cigarettes, and she and Patrick would lie together in the basket. He would say the stupidest things during those nights, talking about teenagehood and the stars and conspiracy theories. She was sure he would only do it to try and get her to crack a genuine smile, but it never worked. He was persistent, however, she would give him that. With a sad sigh Kit leaned back, lying with her head hanging over the side of the basket, clutching the last remaining posters to her chest. She didn't love him, but that didn't mean she wished any ill-will on him. She hoped he was safe.

When she opened her eyes, all she saw were two legs. With a frown she rolled over and looked up, her eyes moving up past the legs, up past the torso, until suddenly, around seven or eight feet up, she came across a face.

There was no face.

With a gasp Kit jumped up and took a step backwards, staring at the figure in front of her. It looked like an incredibly tall person, a man, however he was blurred and almost seemed to shimmer. He wasn't quite in a fixed state. His face, though... No nose, no eyes, no mouth, nothing. At first there was confusion: the thing had not moved, perhaps she was imagining it? But when she took a step backwards, a twig beneath her foot snapped, and suddenly that no-faced thing was staring right at her. Kit felt like she had been electrocuted, and she felt her legs begin to shake. It was hot, a little bit too hot for the morning - _but it's not the morning, it's the evening_ \- and the sun was coming up too bright-  _no it's going down_ \- and the creature was making a noise, a whisper, a growl, a name-

_Cathy._

And then it was running towards her.

With a scream Kit turned and began running as hard and as fast as she could, the papers falling from her hands as she made her way towards the green hill. She felt her foot slip on the grass as the ground was elevated, felt her knee hit the grass, but she dared not stop or look back. She could her it behind her, its pants mixed in with her, could hear it saying her name.

_Cathy, Cathy, Cathy._

She let out a sob, a cry for help, and clawed her way back up to her feet, racing up the hill. It wasn't until she had grabbed her bike at the top that she realized the sound, her name, it had disappeared. With heaving breaths Kit slowly turned around, her gaze falling to the bottom of the grassy hill. The creature was gone, replaced by a clown. He was tall, almost as tall as the thing that had been there before. His orange hair stood out shockingly against his painted face and faded, white costume. She stood frozen at the top, feeling as though every wavelength in the world was vibrating all around her. The clown was staring at her and smiling, holding a red balloon.

"A memory of Summer, Cathy?" It called, it's voice containing a rough, raspy quality to it that sent shivers up Kit's spine. She felt like she was glued to where she stood. 

"Summer can be busy for the clowns, Cathy," It continued, it's smile even wider than before. "Come join us. We all float down here, Cathy. We all float, and so can you! You'll float too, Cathy. You'll float too!"

Its voice was getting rougher, disorientating, until suddenly all the wavelengths around Kit seemed to rip apart at the same time and  _it was rushing towards her-_

Letting out a scream Kit jumped onto her bike and sped away, eyes wide with horror as she heard it laughing behind her. She didn't look back until all she heard was silence, until she no longer felt like the air around her was electricity. When she did, she saw that the clown, or that thing, was not there anymore. All she could see were pieces of paper dancing across the grass in the wind.  

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> And it only gets worse from here on out


	9. The Bloody Rock War

She hadn't told Richie what she had seen the day before. She hadn't told anyone at all. Who would have believed her? She could barely believe herself, and she had seen it happen. She had seen  _Him._ The thought of it had kept her up most of the night, and no amount of cigarettes could calm her shaking hands. 

So the next day when the group made their way to Beverly's, Kit could barely ride her bike in a straight line. She kept thinking that that thing from the night before would pop up in front of her, or was stalking her from behind. She could still hear it's rasping breath calling her name.

_Cathy. Cathy. Cathy._

They arrived at Beverly's without incident, the younger girl meeting them with a frantic look on her face, saying she had to show them something. Leaving Richie as a lookout in case Beverly's father returned home, the group made their way up the fire escape and into Beverly's apartment. Beverly seemed overly cautious for a girl who was walking the hallway of her own home. It was almost as she was scared of it. Kit would find out why once they entered the bathroom.

"Do you see it?" Beverly asked as they stared into the room.

"Yes," Eddie replied, Kit nodding in wide-eyed horror. She had never seen so much red in her life, especially what caused it.

Blood. Blood covered the bathroom from the ceiling to the floor. It stained the windows, dripped down the walls, blanketed the tiled floor. She remembered how red her hands had been when she had made her last painting at school for the year. That was nothing compared to what Beverly's bathroom looked like.

"What... What happened in here?" Bill asked.

"My dad couldn't see it. I thought I might be crazy," Beverly whispered.

"Well if you're crazy, then we're all crazy."

"We can't leave it like this," Bill said, before taking a step forward. Kit grimaced at the sight, but she knew he was right. It was disturbing as Hell, and it wasn't fair to expect Beverly to clean it herself or just deal with it. Kit turned to Beverly.

"Where are your buckets?"

They must've cleaned for over an hour or so, slowly cutting through the blood until they began seeing white tiles and porcelain surfaces again. Kit found herself cleaning the areas next to Beverly a majority of the time, and she cast several concerned glances in the young girl's direction. She didn't look too unsettled, however there was something there that Kit couldn't quite put her finger on. She never said a word about her concerns, however, and when the bathroom was finally cleaned she left with a black rubbish bag clutched in one hand, following Eddie and Stan downstairs. It wasn't long before the group were on their way again, putting aside what they had just witnessed. 

Richie didn't seem to believe them when they told him what happened. As they walked their bikes down the street he continued talking about how bored he had been waiting for them, biking around them in a circle both physically and with his repetitive words.

"No, I love being your personal doorman, really," he said. "Could you idiots have taken any longer?" His words were met with a chorus of "Shut up, Richie" from a majority of the group, Kit included. He hadn't seen the blood.

"Oh, okay, trash the trashmouth. I get it," he continued, making Kit roll her eyes. "Hey, I wasn't the one scrubbing the bathroom floor and imagining that her sink went all Eddie's mom's vagina on Halloween." Kit let out a groan of disgust at that last part. 

"She didn't imagine it," Bill said quietly, making the group pause. "I... I saw something, too."

Kit couldn't help but reel back, lips parting in shock.

"You saw blood too?" Stan asked. Bill was silent for a moment before answering.

"Not blood. I saw Georgie," Bill stuttered out, making Kit stiffen. She saw the look on his face, heartbroken and helpless at the mention of his little brother. She hadn't known Georgie as well as she knew Bill, but seeing as Bill and Richie were best friends both their families knew each other well enough. Kit remembered times when she would have to go and pick up Richie from Bill's house and she would see Georgie playing in the driveway or on the front lawn. He had been a sweet kid, playful and bubbly. With a frown Kit turned her eyes from Bill to Richie. She wouldn't know what to do with herself if she ever lost him.

"It seemed so real," Bill continued. "I mean, it seemed like him, but there was this..."

"The clown." Eddie's voice was filled with fear that echoed the way Kit now felt. She stared at Eddie, realizing that what she had seen wasn't a dream.  _He saw it too. He saw it too! I wasn't imagining things. It's.... It's real._ Kit felt her bottom lip begin to tremble as she thought about the night before. "Yeah, I saw him too."

Kit glanced around the group, reading each kid's face. Ben, Eddie, Bill, Stan, they all looked equally as terrified as Kit. The only one who didn't seem fearful or shocked or worried was Richie.

"Wait, can only virgins see this stuff?" He asked. "Is that why I'm not seeing this shit-"

"I saw it, too."

Kit's voice was soft, breaking at the end, and suddenly she found all eyes were on her. The kids seemed surprised to hear her speak, for her to say that she believed them or had experienced the same thing. Perhaps it was because of the age difference. She was almost sixteen, she was closer to adulthood than any of them, and yet...

"Yesterday. I... I saw it. The clown. I saw..." Kit trailed off, casting her eyes towards the ground for a moment before looking back at her brother. "It's not a virgin thing. I saw it. It's... it's real."

In silence the group let those words weigh down on them. Although Kit was glad to know that she wasn't insane, it worried her that all of them - bar Richie - had had something like that happen. It was uniting in an incredibly troubling way. 

Their thoughts, however, were broken by the distant sounds of male voices. Turning their attention down the road, Kit saw something that made her want to run and hide.

"Oh, shit, that's Belch Huggin's car." 

"We, we should probably get out of here," Eddie said, Kit having already thrown one leg over her bike, ready to get away from the Bower's gang.

"Wait, isn't that the homeschooled kid's bike?" Bill pointed out. Sure enough, a bike was lying in the grass next to the car. 

"Yeah, that's Mike's," Eddie replied, and it dawned on the group what was happening to the owner of the bike.

"We have to help him," Beverly said.

"We should?" Richie replied, less than keen. In truth, Kit shared in her brother's thought. She did not want to face Henry or Belch or Victor. She almost added Patrick's name to the list before she remembered that he was currently missing.  _They'll probably blame that one on me,_ Kit thought, her stomach twisting inside. However, the group was beginning to move now, and biting her lip Kit hopped off her bike and followed them. 

Beverly, as it turned out, had very good aim when it came to throwing rocks at people's heads. She had managed stop Henry from attacking the homeschooled kid, knocking him aside to the praise of Stan and the others who were now arming themselves. Kit found herself unable to step out from behind the long grass, watching as the boy crawled across the stream towards them while the Bower's gang recovered. Kit saw the look on Henry's face as he stood, first shocked at the attack, then turning into one of slime.

"You losers are trying too hard. She'll do you. You just gotta ask nicely, like I did," he sneered, before grabbing himself rudely. Kit saw the shock on Beverly's face, could hear the rumors that had spread around town about her in her head, and suddenly she was walking out of her hiding space in a fury.

"You're a disgusting, lying fucker, Henry Bowers!" She snarled, coming to stand beside Beverly. She let herself revel in the shock that crossed Henry's face once more when he saw her. However, he recovered quick enough.

"Well, well, well. We had wondered what had happened to you, Tozier. Thought you might've gone missing with Patrick," Henry called, and Kit had to admit that hearing him say Patrick's name made her wince. "Trust him to steal you away instead of knocking your fucking brains out for what you did at the bridge, traitor bitch."

 With an evil grin Henry took a step forward, looking her up and down. Kit was suddenly reminded of all the times Henry would ever look at her, never as a friend or alley or one of his mate's girlfriends. It was always a possessive gaze, one that would make her conscious of her gender, her looks, her body. She had seen that gaze once before in her life, but she never understood the gravity of it until after. 

"I told you that if you got on my nerves that I'd have to teach you a lesson," Henry growled. "Seeing as Hocksetter isn't around anymore, I'd say it's free game. You may have been his whore, and you may have become theirs," Henry nodded towards the boys who stood beside her. "But today, you're mine. I'll teach you a lesson all right, Tozier. You and that little slut beside you."

After a slight pause, one where Kit found herself going through a 'fight or flight' moment at hearing what Henry was implying he was going to do to her and Beverly, Ben did one of the things she least expected from him. He gave a roar like a lion, and then threw a rock straight at Henry, which caught the side of his head. Suddenly Beverly threw one, and then Stan, until, with a battle-like cry, Richie screamed, "ROCK WAR!"

Suddenly both sides were throwing rocks at one another with enough force that one would become bruised or bleed. Kit's first throw missed her intended targets, however her second one was better: she caught Victor on his shin. The whole time the battle commenced Kit could hear her brother screaming profanities, including the line, "You can't fuck with my sister! Motherfuckers!" Kit had to admit, she was kinda touched to hear him say something so caring despite the explicit language. Another one of her rocks hit Belch in the stomach, making him double over slightly. She almost laughed, however Henry managed to catch her upper arm, tearing her dress and causing a blossoming pain to steal all humor from her. With a cry just as war-like as her brother's, Kit grabbed a rock and threw it hard at Henry, catching his cheek. Soon, Victor and Belch had disappeared into the woods, leaving Henry lying on the stone bed, defeated.  As he slowly pulled himself back up to his feet the group began to disperse, helping one another up the small bank and down the path. Kit stood beside her brother, staring Henry down. When the group had passed them Kit was about to follow on until Richie yelled out.

"Go blow your dad, you mullet-wearing asshole!" He shouted, before pulling both fingers at Henry. He glanced up at Kit, gave her a small smile, before following the others down the path. Kit stayed where she was for a moment, staring at the boy she had spent two years of her life hanging out with. He looked dazed at what had occurred, and Kit realized that she had nothing to be afraid of.  _Fuck the Bower's gang_ , she thought, giving Henry a poisoned, devilious, superior smile.  _I've got my Loser's club now._

And without a word Kit turned her back on him and left him in the dust. 


	10. It

The next few days passed without incident, Kit taking it as a blessing. Neither Bower nor the clown had made an appearance, and soon it felt as though things were returning to normal. As Mike was the newest member of the Loser's club, they had all been hanging out together at multiple spots around Derry. They had returned to the quarry, hung out by the railway tracks, and spent time riding their bikes around town. Kit was beginning to find herself settling into a pleasant rhythm, and the fact that she was hanging out with her younger brother didn't seem to faze either Tozier sibling anymore. Each member had become an integral part to the group.  

Today, the group were hanging out in the center of town for Derry's annual Summer fair. According to Beverly, she had never attended, just like Ben, and Mike had never gone with a group of friends before. The atmosphere had started off relatively lighthearted, with the group snacking from various food stalls. Even now, Richie was entertaining himself by playing with some band members instrument, making Kit smile at his antics. However, she found herself becoming distracted by the conversation Beverly, Bill, and Ben were having about one of the missing kids. 

"They say they found part of his hand all chewed up near the Standpipe," Stan said, before Bill took a step towards the missing kid poster.

"He asked to borrow a pencil once," Ben murmured. Without a word Bill flipped up the poster, revealing underneath the picture of Betty Ripsom.

"It's like she's been forgotten because Corcoran's missing," he stuttered. 

"Is it ever gonna end?" Stan asked, glancing towards Kit. She shrugged, unable to answer his question. She knew as much as they did.

"What are you guys talking about?" Eddie asked, appearing with two ice-creams in hand. Richie approached from behind him, apparently having lost his impromptu audition for the marching band.

"What they always talk about," He said, taking an ice-cream cone from Eddie.

"I actually think it will end," Ben spoke, answering Stan's earlier question.  "For a little while, at least."

"What do you mean?" Beverly said, asking the question that Kit herself had been wondering.

"So I was going over all my Derry research and I charted out all the big events: The Ironwork explosion in 1908, the Bradley gang in '35, and the Black Spot in '62, and now kids being..." Ben trailed off, glancing at Bill before continuing. "I realized this stuff seems to happen..."

"Every 27 years," both Ben and Bill finished. With frowns the group stared at one another before Kit made the first move, heading towards the town square. Soon they were gathered around a park bench, discussing in detail what was happening. It was soon realized that perhaps the thing that had caused all those big events, as well as the missing kids, was the same thing. Like an animal hibernating, it would awaken only to eat before returning to its slumber. It was also decided that whatever the thing was used someone's fear against them, turning into it to frighten them.

"I saw a leper," Eddie admitted. "He was like a walking infection."

"But you didn't," Stan said next to Kit. "Because it isn't real. None of this is."

"It feels real," Kit replied, thinking about what she had seen. She dug her nails into the palms of her hands.

"No, it can't be. It's not," Stan continued, his voice shaking. "Not Eddie's leper, or Bill seeing Georgie, or the woman I keep seeing-"

"Is she hot?" Richie asked, and Kit scrunched her face up, staring at her brother and wondering why he opened his mouth sometimes. Stan did the same, replying in quick, short bursts.

"No, Richie. She's not hot! Her face is all messed up," he said, looking down. "None of this makes any sense. They're all like bad dreams."

"I don't think so. I know the difference between a bad dream and real life, okay?" Mike replied. 

"What did you see? You saw something too?" Eddie asked. 

"Yes," Mike replied with a frown, looking sadder than any of the group had ever seen him before. "Do you guys know that burnt down house on Harris Avenue?" A few nods from the group. "I was inside when it burnt down. Before I was rescued, my mom and dad were trapped in the next room over from me. They were pushing and pounding on the door trying to get to me. But it was too hot. When the firemen finally found them, the skin on their hands had melted down to the bone. We're all afraid of something."

"Got that right," Richie said, glancing over his shoulder. Kit followed his gaze, already knowing what she was going to find.

"Why, Rich? What are you afraid of?" Eddie asked.

"Clowns."

He had been afraid of clowns his whole life. Kit could still remember the first time he had seen a clown as a toddler. She had only been a young girl but she could still remember the sound of his shriek at seeing it. Kit couldn't help but think about it as they biked back to Bill's house.

"Kit?" Stan was biking beside her now, a concerned look on his face. "You... You never said what you saw."

"I didn't?" Kit replied, feigning ignorance. She was acutely aware that the rest of the group was now listening in on their conversation, heads turned towards her. She shrugged, not meeting any of their eyes.

"Yeah. What did you see?" Stan asked. Kit didn't reply.

"Oh, I know! Was it an empty canvas?" Richie asked. Kit stared at him, one eyebrow raised. "Or unwashed paint brushes? The Mona Lisa, torn to shreds!"

"Shut up," Kit muttered.

"Kit?" Beverly's voice made Kit look up towards the girl. She had kind eyes, and despite the fact that Kit was older than her, she felt safe. "What was it? What did you see?"

"It's..." Kit trailed off, glancing around at the group. "It's hard to explain. It was like a person, like a man. Only really tall, with long limbs and... and these curved fingers, like claws. He was a bit blurry, like my eyes couldn't focus on him properly. I..."

Kit closed her eyes for a moment, taking a deep breath in before she opened them once more and replied.

"I couldn't see his face. He didn't have one."

There was no reply, however Kit studied the faces of each person. All the boys looked confused, obviously trying to figure out what exactly it was that Kit was afraid of. However, she caught Beverly's eye and the pair stared at each other for a moment. Unlike the boys, Beverly seemed to understand what it was that Kit had seen. In return, Kit felt as though she had figured out something about Beverly that she couldn't quite place her finger on before. Unshed tears pooled in Beverly's eyes and Kit reached out, taking hold of the girl's hand. They biked together that way until they finally arrived at Bill's house. 

"Okay, look," Bill started, pointing at the projection on the wall in front of them. The group were huddled together in Bill's garage, the projection cutting through the darkness. Red lines projected cut through the paper map stuck to the wall. 

"Th-that's where Georgie disappeared," Bill continued, before pointing in a different direction. "There's the Ironworks, and the Black Spot. Everywhere it happens, it's all connected by the sewers. And they all meet up at-"

"The well house," Ben finished.

"It's in the house on Neibolt Street," Stan said.

"You mean that creepy-ass house where all the junkies and hobos like to sleep?" Richie commented. Kit fidgeted uncomfortably.  

"I hate that place," Beverly was saying now. "It always feels like it's watching me."

 "That's where I saw It," Eddie gasped next to Kit. "That's where I saw the clown."

"Th-tha-that's where It lives," Bill confirmed.

"I can't imagine anything ever wanting to live there," Stan said behind her, his voice wavering. Eddie suddenly jumped to his feet, turning around to face the group.

"Can we stop talking about this?! I-I-I can barely breathe! This is Summer, we're kids, I can barely breathe! I'm up here having a fucking asthma attack-"

"Eddie, sit back down here and calm down," Kit said, holding out her hand towards the younger boy who shook his head, too panicked to listen to her.

"I'm not doing this!" he gasped, ripping the map down from the wall.

"What the hell? Pu the map back," Bill replied as the projector went blank. Eddie only shook his head in disagreement before he projector changed slides with a click. On the wall was a family photo.

"What happened?" Bill asked, and Kit turned around, looking at where he stood. Without touching the projector the slide changed again to another family photo.

"What's going on?" Stanley asked as Kit turned her attention back to the wall, watching as Eddie inched towards her.

"I got it, hold on," Mike said, however the projector continued to click. "Guys..."

Photo after photo appeared on the wall in front of them, until it began to focus on one, closing up on the face of a smiling little boy. Behind her Kit heard Bill whisper, "Georgie."

"Bill?" Stanley murmured as the projector began to click faster, moving away from Georgie and towards his mother. Kit felt herself shuffling backwards, her back pressed against her brother's knees while her heart began to beat as rapidly as the projector. Bill's mother stood in the picture, the wind blowing her hair across her face. Suddenly, the face of Bill's mother disappeared behind long orange hair, only to reappear as that of a clown. The group were gasping, Kit's eyes wide with horror as It seemed to stare towards them from out of the picture. 

"What the fuck!?" Richie cried, just as Kit herself began chanting, "Shit, shit, shit!" rapidly, turning herself slightly away from the projector and grabbing hold of her brother's hand.

"It's It!" Bill gasped as the projector continued to click, It's face becoming more visible. With a gasp Stanley stood up beside her and Kit did the same, until suddenly they were all on their feet and backing away.

"What the fuck is that?! What the fuck is that!?" Richie was screaming. In the back of her brain Kit realized that this was her brother's first experience with the clown, suddenly becoming a protective older sister and pushing him behind her with one hand.

"I don't fucking know!" Eddie screamed, pushing his way behind Kit's taller frame and hiding. It was staring at all of them now, biting down on the bottom of his lip while they scrambled to move as far away as they could from his picture. 

"Turn it off!" Beverly was shouting on the other side. "Turn it off!" Her words began echoing as the others picked them up until suddenly Mike kicked the projector over onto its side, the picture now still and crooked. In the light Kit could now see how close Stanley was to the wall, until suddenly the garage was dark. The light returned, however, as did a still picture of It. Stanley was facing the picture now, even when the place went dark and was then drenched in light once more. With shaking legs Kit took a step towards him, reaching out to grab his shoulder.

"Stanley," Kit whispered. When the light returned once more, Kit's fingers were only a short distance away from Stan. However, she found herself frozen when she realized the picture on the wall was devoid of the clown. He was gone.

And then he was  _there._

Suddenly the garage was filled with screams and Kit heard her brother and the others pull away from behind her, moving towards the garage door. When the light went out and Kit could no longer see the clown she grabbed hold of Stanley. When the light returned, however, It was staring right at the two kids.

"Kit, Stanley, run!" Richie cried, and holding each other the pair ran through the darkness towards where Richie was, colliding into him. Kit looked back when the light returned to find It, almost as big as the garage, out of the picture and on his knees. She ushered Richie and Stanley out of It's path and against the wall, using it to guide them towards the garage door. The darkness returned and she heard It move. In the light they were grouped together, but Kit noticed that Beverly was not there. Darkness again, and she heard It growl. When light returned Kit watched as It reached out, and all she could hear was Beverly's deafening scream. Darkness, and then suddenly the garage was pooled with light and It was gone. Beverly was huddled in the corner on the other side of the garage, her hands covering her face. Her brother was clinging to one of her arms, Stanley the other. Both stood behind her. With gasps the group slowly collected themselves, Beverly hugging Bill tight while Kit turned and pulled her brother against her tightly, one hand still holding Stanley's. 

"It saw us," Eddie whispered, barely audible over their gasps. "It saw us and It knows where we are!"

"It always did," Bill said softly, before walking out of the garage. "So let's go."

"Go?" Ben questioned. "Go where?"

"Neibolt. That's where Georgie is."

"After that?" Stanley replied, squeezing Kit's hand which she squeezed back in support. After that, going to Neibolt was the last thing she wanted to do.

"Yeah, it's Summer. We should be outside," Richie murmured.

"If you say it's Summer one more f-f-fucking time..." Bill snapped in an uncharacteristic manner. He didn't finish his sentence, instead turning around and grabbing his bike.

"Bill! Wait!" Beverly cried. She was the first one to follow him, then Ben, then Kit decided that - as the oldest one in the group - she couldn't watch them go off into danger. She would have to go too. 


	11. Neibolt

She didn't want to go in there. They had drawn straws to see which three would while the others would stand guard outside. However, Richie had drawn one of the short straws with Eddie and there was no way in Hell Kit was going to let her brother go in there alone. She had heard Bill's story, heard the pain in his voice when he had talked about having to go home every night and see Georgie's room, empty of its owner. She always empathized with Bill being an older sibling without the younger. She didn't want to have to start sympathizing with him because she lost Richie to this house and It.  _Whatever happens,_ she thought as they took their first steps into the house.  _Whatever happens, it will not happen to him. I refuse to lose my brother. I refuse to become Bill._

"I can smell it," Eddie whispered as they glanced around the area. It had not changed much since Kit had last visited. She didn't know if that was a good thing or a bad thing.

"Don't breathe through your mouth," Richie replied.

"How come?"

"Because then you're eating it," Richie said, making Eddie gag. Kit came to stand beside her brother, her fingers brushing against his arm.

"You don't need to hold my hand," he said, however he didn't pull away from her. Kit smiled slightly at that despite the situation they were currently in.

"No-one would blame you if you had to," she answered as the pair walked into what might've been the living room. To distract from the creepiness of it all, Kit continued. "True or false: Your big sister has been inside this house before."

"False," Richie replied. He stopped walking when he noticed Kit shaking her head. "Fuck off, you're lying."

"Not lying." And she wasn't. She and the Bowers gang used to hang around the house a lot during her first year with them. Once, on a dare, she had gone upstairs. She was supposed to wave down at the gang from the window, which she had done, however the whole time she had been sick to her stomach with fear. The house seemed rotten to her, and the place smelt like death. She had almost fainted when Patrick had jumped out at her once she reached the bottom of the stairs, but when she realized it was him her fear disappeared, taken over with the desire to kick his ass. They roughhoused for a moment, Kit's fear momentarily gone, before they ended up kissing, only interrupted by Henry's shouts and Kit's hands stilling Patrick's.  _Was that our first kiss?_ Kit wasn't sure. It was weird to think that she was back inside the house without him or the others, and now for a whole other reason. If she had known the secret behind this house she would have never entered it in the first place, not even on a dare.

Richie had found something entangled in the spider webs and when Kit saw what it was, she felt the air leave her lungs quickly. She stood next to her brother, eyes wide with worry, before she looked up at Bill and Eddie who were approaching the siblings.

"What?" Bill asked.

"It... It says I'm missing," Richie whispered, showing the two boys. Kit grabbed his arm, trying to still his shaking, but he was beginning to lose it bad.

"Y-You're not missing, Richie" Bill said.

"Police department, City of Derry. That's my shirt. That's my hair. That's my face-"

"Calm down, this isn't real!" Bill tried to say, but Richie was leaning into his sister now, still staring at the poster while his voice got higher and his words tumbled out of his mouth.

"That's my name. That's my age! That's the date!" He cried, trying to wrestle back the poster Bill had just taken from him. "It says it! What the fuck! Am I missing? Am I gonna go missing?!"

With gentle yet strong hands Kit stood behind Richie, wrapping her arms around her brother's shaking body while Bill grabbed hold of his hands. She pressed her face against his hair, hushing him softly while Bill got him to look his way. 

"That... That isn't real," Bill said. "It's playing tricks on you."

"Hello?"

The voice didn't come from any of them in the living room. It came from upstairs. Slowly, the group walked towards the bottom of the staircase. Kit noticed that Richie had taken hold of his older sister's hand.

"Hello? Help me, please!'

The stairs creaked as they walked, the sound of a girl's gasping breaths scraping against Kit's ears. She didn't know what was real anymore. Bill had told Richie that what he saw wasn't real. Did that mean that what they were hearing wasn't real either?  _Then what is real?_ Kit thought, her hands beginning to shake.  _What's real? Is Patrick's disappearance real? My time with the Bowers gang? Where does reality end and this hell show start?_

There was a girl lying at the end of the hallway, coughing and gasping and covered in dirt and blood. 

"Betty?" Bill whispered. 

"Ripsom?" Richie questioned. The girl turned her head towards them, before which a screech she was dragged out of sight, making Kit jump backwards and Richie let go of her hand. Slowly her brother and Bill began to walk forward, Kit's feet shuffling behind. She heard a whisper behind her but she didn't stop, continuing to walk slower and slower until Richie and Bill were way in front of her. With a frown Kit stared. There were only two boys.  _But there's supposed to be three_ , she thought, before turning around. She saw that Eddie had stayed where he was and, with a frown, she started walking back towards him. If any cases of splitting up were to occur, it would be better for everyone to be in pairs. She would've much rather it be her and Richie, and Bill and Eddie, but it looked like that wouldn't be happening.  

"Eddie?" Kit whispered, but he didn't turn to acknowledge her. His eyes were glued to the shaft of light coming from the slowly opening doorway. 

"Oh, my God," Eddie gasped, Kit swallowing and taking a step back. She looked over her shoulder and saw the door to the room where Bill and Richie had entered slowly beginning to close.

"Richie?" Kit called, before realizing he couldn't hear her. With a gasp she grabbed Eddie's hand and the pair began running down the hallway, Eddie calling for them the whole way.  However, the door slammed before they could get there.

"Guys, guys!" Eddie was shouting, while Kit yelled for her brother. Before they could reach the door, however, the floor opened up in front of them, causing Eddie to pull Kit backwards.

"What the fuck!" He cried while Kit let out a gasp, hugging the wall beside her and looking down. It took her a moment to realize that the two of them were not alone.

"Time to take your pill, Eddie," a rasping voice said behind them. When Kit turned around she was greeted with the sight of a horrific, disgusting monster who looked as though it carried all the diseases of the world. Without a word Eddie fell backwards and through the hole, Kit watching in white-faced, opened-mouth horror. When she turned back around she expected to see the ghoulish creature again. She was wrong.

" _Cathy."_

The no-faced creature grabbed at the collar of her dress, making her scream and pull away from it. It's claws ripped through the fabric of her dress as though it were tissue paper, and suddenly Kit found herself off-balanced and falling through the hole with a scream. The last thing she saw was the creature peering down at her through the hole before she passed out...

_A memory of Summer. The water's edge. The sun beginning to rise. She had always been a wild spirit, and she enjoyed exploring new places. They were in Europe, on holiday, so what better place to explore than the seaside town they were staying in. She wasn't afraid of getting lost, she would stick to the main roads. She wasn't nervous about taking an early morning walk alone, everyone they had met on the trip had been lovely. Beside, this place was paradise. She just wanted to see the sun light it up that morning._

_She was thirteen and curious. She was grinning and excited. She was watching the sunrise by the rockpool on the empty beach. And he was watching her..._

Kit woke with a start, eyes staring up at the ceiling that was no longer there. She could hear something disorientating, a shallow gasping and a mocking laugh. With slow movements Kit rolled over onto her stomach and looked towards the source of the noise. She could see Eddie's legs but not his face. He was blocked from her view by a clown.

With wide eyes Kit jumped to her feet, now able to see Eddie's terrified face. It had him trapped but his eyes were not on Kit. With a rasping, rough voice It spoke, "Tasty, tasty, beautiful fear."

He was leaning towards Eddie, leaning far too close. With a scream, half filled with fear, half filled with protective anger, Kit ran at It, grabbing the creature's shoulder and using all her strength to pull him away from Eddie. It rolled backwards, crouching and staring at Kit who suddenly noticed the very sharp teeth It had. With a roar the creature ran at her and with a scream Kit fell to the ground, quickly shuffling backwards until her back was against the wall. She could hear Eddie a short distance beside her crying, but all she could see was It. It's hand wrapped around her ankle, making her gasp and try to kick his grip off her, but he grabbed that leg with the other hand and pinned it down to the floor. Kit found herself sobbing now as It crawled between her legs, claws gripping her thighs until one was wrapped around her throat and the other had hold of her arm. With the other she began hitting It, but they could've been moth wings tapping against one's face: they were nothing to It. It laughed gleefully, enjoying how she struggled to get free. Kit could hear Eddie screaming for help, could see It eyeing her left arm as he held it up. It opened its mouth, the teeth growing in length and sharpness, and Kit found herself begging, "No, please, don't, don't!!" 

She felt the teeth tear through her flesh, heard her scream fill the room, until suddenly the pressure disappeared and all she felt was an unbearable pain in her left arm. She was too afraid to look down, she thought that all she would see was a bloody stump, but she could feel her fingers clenching in pain. It had only bitten through her arm. It hadn't had any time to tear it off when Richie and Bill had suddenly appeared. Kit looked passed It, eyes locked with her brother.

"This isn't real enough for you, Billy? I'm not real enough for you?" It almost sounded offended, staring at the tallest of the two boys. 

"Oh, shit," Richie gasped, before It continued.

"It was real enough for Georgie," It said, before laughing at the pain that crossed Bill's face. Suddenly the pressure on Kit's throat and wrist was gone and It was flying across the room towards Bill, towards her brother. Before Kit could scream for It to stop, Beverly appeared. An iron fence post through It's head stopped him in his tracks while the others filed into the room, taking in the scene before them. Suddenly all Kit could hear was shouting and screaming, and there were people tending to both Eddie and herself. 

"Wait, no, behind you!!" Kit screamed as It began advancing towards them. There was a clamor of voices as It launched towards them, causing them all to scream, until he suddenly spun around and caught his claws against Ben's stomach, making the boy fall back against Mike. Slowly it started retreating.

"Don't let him get away!" Bill cried, leaving the group and causing them to shout after him. Kit was beginning to feel weak now, though, and she stared down at the blood that was pouring from her wounds.  _Cut too deep_ , a voice in her head was whispering.  _You cut too deep._

"Here, here, wrap this around," Stanley was handing ripped fabric from the bottom of Kit's dress to Beverly, who began wrapping it around Kit's arm. Beside her Richie was telling Eddie that he was going to push his arm back into place, much to the objection of the injured boy. Eventually, though, once Bill returned, Richie did exactly that and soon the kids were racing out of the house and to where their bikes were. With her injured arm Kit found herself sitting on the back of Richie's bike, listening as he told her that she was going to be fine and everything would be okay. Kit closed her eyes and pressed her face against Richie's shoulder. The bleeding had slowed, but the pain was there. The pain was always there.


	12. The Disbandment of The Losers Club

Of course, Eddie's mother was horrified when the group turned up at her house. However, no matter how many times Bill tried to explain that they had been attacked, she would not hear it, instead blaming the group for getting her son hurt. When she had turned her attention to Beverly, Kit tried to stand up for her, but whatever words she had planned to say could not leave her mouth. She thought she could taste blood on her tongue.

Leaning against Stan, Kit and the group stepped into the street, watching as Eddie and his mother drove away from them. Not missing a beat Bill turned towards the group, eyes still frantic from what had occured before.

"I saw the well. W-w-w-w-we know where It is, and next time we'll be better prepared-" He began before being interrupted.

"No!" Stan yelled from next to Kit. "No next time, Bill. You're insane."

"Why? We all know nobody else is going to do anything," Beverly argued, and while Kit agreed with the younger girl on that point, at that moment in time she really did not care. All that matter to her was all of them surviving, of her brother not getting hurt.

"Eddie was nearly killed and look at this motherfucker, he's leaking hamburger helper!" Richie shouted, before turning towards Kit. "And look at my sister! Look! She can barely stand, and her clothes are all bloody and her arm - Jesus, It nearly ate my sister!"

"We can't pretend it's going to go away. Ben, you said yourself it comes back every 27 years," Beverly stated, turning her gaze towards Ben who seemed equally as shaken as Richie and Stan.

"Fine! I'll be 40 and far away from here," He replied. "I thought you said you wanted to get out of this town too."

"Because I want to run towards something, not away," Beverly told him.

"I'm sorry but who invited Molly Ringwald into the group?" Richie snapped.

"Careful," Kit mumbled, still feeling a little light headed. Although her bleeding had stopped, she knew that she had lost a decent enough of blood to make the world spin before her eyes. However, she wasn't going to let Richie run his mouth too much if she had anything to do with it. Deep down she knew that Beverly was right, but everytime she blinked she could see It, and  _Him_ , and all of it horrified her.

"I'm just saying, let's face facts, real world. Georgie is dead, stop trying to get us killed too," Richie yelled, making to walk past Bill who stepped in front of him. Kit tried to stand up on her own without needing Stan as a crutch, taking one step forward. It worked a little, but Stan was still cautious, his hands steadying her whenever she swayed as she tried to walk straight.

"Richie, don't say that-" Kit said, just as Bill said, "Georgie's not dead." However, her brother ignored both of them, continuing to speak.

"You couldn't save him but you could still save yourself."

"No! T-t-t-take it back, you're scared and we all are but take it back!" Bill snapped before shoving Richie who immediatly shoved him back. Before anyone could do anything Bill had Richie by the collar of his shirt, punching him hard enough to make him fall onto the ground.

"Bill!" Beverly cried, while Kit herself shouted, "What the fuck?!" She watched as  Stan and Mike tried to help him up. However, he was pissed now, and he fought against the pair, shouting.

"You're such a loser! You're a bunch of losers, get us all killed while trying to catch a clown!" he said quickly while Bill started trying to get another hit in, Ben having to hold him back. With a wince Kit stood between Richie and Bill. This seemed to help a little, with both boys hesitant to push too hard in case they ended up knocking into Kit and injuring her arm further.

"Stop!" Beverly cried, and the boys ceased their attempts at trying to get at one another, Richie breaking free of Stan and Mike's hold and coming to stand beside his sister, letting her lean against him. "This is what It wants, It wants to divide us. When we're all together, when we heard it, that's why we're still alive."

"Yeah, well I plan to keep it that way," Richie snapped, before putting Kit's good arm around his neck and helping her walk away from the group. Kit didn't miss the way Beverly looked at her, as though hoping she would say something to stop her brother from leaving. However, Kit just shook her head at the girl. Bill, however, was more vocal.

"Kit? I know you got hurt, but..." He trailed off, glancing at Richie who was glaring at him. "But you get it, don't you?"

"I..." Kit frowned, looking at her brother before looking down at her blood-soaked arm. "I do, Bill. But that's the thing. I don't want to lose my brother too."

Without another word the siblings walked away from The Losers club, and eventually everyone else did too.

~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~

When they got home they found the place empty, a blessing that both siblings counted. Although Kit already had an excuse as to why her arm was a mess - a dog bite - she didn't think she had the power to lie to her parents. She had been feeling woozy since they had gotten to Eddie's house and the adrenalin had faded, allowing the pain to return tenfold. Richie had to help her up the stairs to the bathroom to stop her from collapsing. Sitting her down on the toilet he began rummaging through their bathroom cabinet in search of the first aid kit. 

"Here," he said, making her stretch her arm across the basin. "I'm going to roll up your sleeve-"

"No!" Kit snapped, pulling her arm away from him so fast it hurt. She let out a small cry as the pain raced through her body, cradling her arm against her. Richie frowned, reaching towards her, but she pulled back. "Don't, I can do it."

"Don't be a dumbass, you can't even sit up straight! Look, you're gonna fall-"

He had to grab her by the shoulders to stop her from falling sideways off the toilet. If Richie had his way she would be in hospital by now, but Kit had forbade him from taking her there. She knew what would happen once they got a look at her. They would look past the wound on her arm and start looking elsewhere. Then she'd be screwed. 

"Give me your arm, Kit, or so help me I will take you to the hospital," Richie said, staring at his sister with arms folded. "You choose: Me or them?"

Kit stared at her brother, a frown etched across her face and worry pooled in her eyes.  _Too young_ , she kept thinking, _too young, he won't understand, you'll freak him out._ But the pain was unreal and she just wanted to get her arm fixed so she could pass out properly in her own bed and not on the bathroom floor. With a sigh she placed her arm across the basin and let her brother roll up her sleeve.

At first he didn't notice anything peculiar. Kit's whole arm was covered in blood, it took him some time to wash it all off. It wasn't until the red was gone that he noticed. The deep bite mark was a dark red, fleshy crescent moon against the paleness of Kit's arm. It stood out against the thin white scars laddered from her wrist to her elbow. Richie's eyes widened as he stared at the wounds that were not caused by It. These were wounds that Kit had put there herself over the years. Some were faded, others shiny, some were raised and bumpy when he ran a finger over them. Kit didn't pull her arm away when he did that, but she did close her eyes. Confusion took over, what was the meaning of this? Raising his eyes towards his sister who wouldn't meet his gaze, Richie realized that he didn't know his sister at all. If he did, he would've known about this. 

"I...I think you'll need stitches. Good ones, like from a hospital-"

"There's a needle and thread in the first aid kit. Sanitize the needle in the alcohol or go find a lighter, then just... just stitch it up," Kit interrupted. Richie stared at her with wide eyes, alarmed at her response.

"Sorry, you want me to what?! Stitch it myself? You know that's supposed to hurt real bad, and I'll probably do it wrong-"

"Richie, it hurts already. And I don't care, just don't take me to a hospital. You know what they'll say, what they might do, if they see all of... this," Kit snapped desperately, staring at her brother and gesturing with her bad arm. Richie looked back at her scars.  _They'll call her insane and a threat to herself and they'll lock her up so you'll never see her again._ Swallowing, Richie got the needle and thread. 

It took him almost an hour to stitch the wound up, mostly because his hands were shaking the entire time. He was afraid of putting Kit in any more pain than what she was already in. However, the teenager was doing well to hide her pain from him. There was the occasional grimace or wince, but the alcohol she had downed as soon as Richie had used some of it to sterilize the needle helped to numb her pain. With another sip of alcohol Kit glanced at her brother's face which was slowly beginning to bruise.

"Bill shouldn't have hit you," she told him, biting her lip when Richie tugged too hard. "But... But you shouldn't have brought up Georgie."

"I know," Richie murmured. "But you got hurt, and so did Eddie and Ben. We almost died today. We almost ended up like Georgie."

Kit sighed, closing her eyes and leaning back against the wall. While she had never said it out loud, she had always doubted Georgie's survival, no matter how sad it made her to even think that the adorable kid brother of Richie's best friend was dead. But she knew that bad things happened to kids of all ages, and seeing as It was definitely involved in what happened to Georgie, well... Any hope Kit may have had left for him was gone.

"It's for the best we don't keep searching for It. It's like what Ben said, when all this is done and we're still alive, we can move on and - and not get hurt again by It. Then we've got the rest of our lives without having to deal with monsters," Richie continued, making Kit open her eyes and stare at him, eyebrows drawn in thought.  _He's shown his age in this comment_ , she couldn't help but think.  _He may like to act the part of a sauvy adult, all trash talk and smart ass, but Jesus, he's so young._

"No more monsters," Kit whispered, and she couldn't help but chuckle.  _Little brother, there are monsters just like It, and they too come in many different forms. It's hard to tell what a monster is until it is too late._  

 After the wound was stitched - incredibly crudely done and guarranting Kit a gruesome scar in the future - Richie helped Kit to her room, lying her down on her bed before settling on her window seat, staring at his sister in worry. Kit, noticing his concern, spoke.

"I'm okay, Richie. I just need to rest, is all," she mumbled. Richie swallowed, looking down at his clasped hands, at his own pale arms that were clear of any markings. His eyes scanned Kit's room, taking in everything around him. He'd never had a proper look in her room before. In one corner lay her art supplies, a little area she had designated in her room just for creating things Richie barely ever saw. Right now, leaning against the wall, were several different art pieces at varies stages of completion, many of them being sunsets on a familiar looking beach that their family had visited a few years ago while on holiday. Her desk was clean and devoid of any school materials. Meanwhile, her chair had a few articles of clothing hanging off it and spilling onto the floor. Other than her paintings, Kit had nothing of personal significance hanging on her walls or sitting on her desk or draws. Not even anything from when she was younger, and Richie was sure that she used to have a personal photo or two hanging around. When his eyes returned to his sister she was lying on her good side, her back towards her brother.

"Kit?"

"Mmm..."

"Why..." He paused, clutching his hands together and looking at his arms once again. "Why is your fear that... that faceless man thing? The tall thing with claws. I don't understand..."

Kit didn't reply for a moment, and Richie almost thought she was asleep, but eventually she replied.

"Good. Because you shouldn't. You're too young, Richie. Don't ask me again."

"But your arms-"

"Enough, Richard," Kit snapped, and Richie fell silent. Like their parents, Kit would only ever use his full name if she was extremely angry. With a huff Richie stood up and made his way towards the door, unable to help himself from feeling hurt and annoyed at his sister's secrecy. Before he stomped out of the room he snapped back at her.

"You know, we fought that stupid clown together. I'm not that young that I can't do shit like that, or - or take care of you, or even take care of whatever secret it is you're hiding! If you don't want to tell me about your fear that It turns into, then fine, but your arms? That's important, and I wish you'd tell me why you do that. I'm not that young that I don't realize how important that is. I wish you'd have a little more faith in me when it comes to telling me important shit."

Without another word Richie left his sister, not realizing that she had already withdrawn inside herself as soon as he had spoken his first words. 

 


	13. Monster

Sometimes Richie wished that their parents would pay attention to them. If they did, then maybe they could help Kit. But they didn't, so those Summer days after the Losers Club broke up were the same.

She barely left her room anymore, only ever leaving to use the bathroom or grab something to eat or drink. Even then, though, she wouldn't take much food back with her. A slice of bread one day, an ice-block the next. For three days she didn't come into the kitchen at all. 

She hadn't changed her clothes in weeks either. She wore the same loose, long-sleeved shirt and pajama bottoms day after day. There was no evidence to prove that she had showered or brushed her teeth or just taken any kind of care for herself. Every time Richie walked past her closed door room, the air surrounding it was stale, as though she hadn't opened the windows for a long time. Richie knew for a fact that her curtains had remained shut since they had fought It: he would see them closed every morning he'd leave the house to go play games at the arcade, still shut by the time he'd return home later that afternoon. The smell of cigarettes also slipped underneath her closed door and into the hallway. Richie had no idea where she was getting them from, but he suspected that she either had a stash in her room or she was stealing them from their mother, who had on occasion questioned why her cigarette stash was getting low faster than usual, but never did anything to follow up that question.

He'd tried to get her to come out with him. He'd tried to get her to eat more, or at least take a shower. But she was unresponsive to his attempts. He'd tried to make her laugh, tried to make her speak, tried to make her cry even. But she was a ghost, her hollow eyes only staring at him. Once, he had burst into her room and opened her curtains, saying that soon Summer would be over so they should make the most of it and maybe go for a swim at the quarry. As soon as the sun came shining into her room she had flinched, staring at her brother from her bed with wild eyes. He didn't know why she looked that way until he took a good look around her room which looked so much different than the last time he had been in it. Now, clothes were scattered all over the floor, her sheets were bunched up upon the bed, a small pot next to her bedside was half full of cigarette butts, and her art corner was now just an art room. Acrylics, charcoal, watercolours, and oils covered her desk, and on her walls, furniture, and floor were pieces of art. 

"What the fuck..." Richie had murmured, picking up a piece of paper. Staring back at him were eyes he knew, however they'd never looked at him with such genuine happiness before. This was a side of Patrick Hockstetter Richie had never witnessed before. This wasn't the only piece Kit had created of him, and he wasn't the only figure she had made either. Richie saw sunsets on beaches and dark, shadowy figures with long limbs and no face, and It. Richie had almost jumped when he saw those golden eyes staring at him. "What are you doing? What... What is all this?!"

"Have to get them out," Kit whispered, clutching a pillow to her chest tightly.

"Get them out? I don't understand-"

"Have to get them out of here," She clarified, pressing a finger against her head hard. Her fingers were still stained with watercolour from whatever piece she was last working on. 

"Kit-"

"Go away, Richie," she interrupted, leaning over towards her bedside table and grabbing a cigarette and lighter. "I want to be alone." 

Richie was too scared to argue back, heading out of her room with worry. As soon as he closed her door he heard her get off her bed and close her curtains once more. 

Stan didn't know what to do when Richie had told him what was happening. He always knew that Kit was a bit of a mysterious character, but this wasn't mysterious, this was troubling. When Richie had told him about the scars that marked Kit's arms, Stan was ashamed to admit that he thought that maybe she had lost her mind. He never voiced this thought to Richie, though, knowing that Kit's brother would've snapped at him for calling her crazy. But Stan didn't know what else it could be.

"Maybe It is behind this? Maybe when he bit her he was - he poisoned her, and now she's all..." Stan didn't finish off his sentence.

"Maybe? But those scars were old, way before It ever showed up," Richie pointed out, before lowering his voice. "I think that thing she sees It turn into has something to do with it."

"The faceless man?"

"Yeah. I've never seen it before other than what she's drawn, but if she's drawing it then it must have something to do with how she's acting," Richie murmured, eyebrows furrowed in thought. "I think... She started acting weird after our Summer holiday over in Europe, remember? She made everyone call her Kit instead of Cathy."

"Do you think that holiday has something to do with it?" Stan asked. Richie shrugged, unable to know what was going on with his sister. Part of him thought that perhaps she was right and maybe he was too young to know the things that she wouldn't reveal to him. All he wanted was for her to get better. 

"I'm not sure. But I don't think she'll be coming to your Jewish thing, Stan. Sorry."

And Richie had been right. Even though he had held out some hope that she would turn up, Stan was sad to see that the space next to where Richie was sitting was empty of his sister. Richie had told him afterwards that he had tried to convince Kit to come but it hadn't worked.

"She said to tell you that she hopes it all went well, though," Richie added. Stan smiled slightly at this, privately wishing that Kit had been able to tell him this in person. He would never admit this to Richie, but he definitely missed his sister's presence.

"Do you think she'll get better soon?" Stan asked, wondering if maybe he might be able to visit her eventually. So far Richie had said that she wasn't in the mood for visitors and that maybe it was for the best, that maybe they had to wait for her to make the first move. With a frown Richie just shook his head.

"I think she's getting worse," Richie admitted. "She's... She's started having nightmares. Bad nightmares. She screams now."

The first night it had happened, their parents had been away on a business trip. Richie had still been up watching late night movies on TV when he had heard her scream. Grabbing a knife from the kitchen he had raced upstairs, thinking that It had returned to finish what he had started. When he burst through his sister's bedroom door, though, he found her alone. She was still shaking and screaming though, writhing in her bed as she cried. When he had managed to wake her up her face was streaked with tears, and when Richie asked her what she had been dreaming about she only shook her head and hugged her pillow, pressing her face against it. Since that night his sleep had been interrupted by Kit's screams, and every night he would wake her up, calm her down, ask her what she was dreaming about, and leave without an answer. 

So when Bill came up to him in the arcade and told him that It got Beverly, Richie couldn't help but feel slightly happy. They had to go save her and they had to go as a group, and Kit was part of the Loser's club just like the rest of them. 

"Don't say anything about her room or her," Richie told Bill when the pair had arrived at his house to get Kit. They would've called but Richie knew that Kit wouldn't have answered the phone. This was the only way they could get her out.

"What do you mean-"

"I mean don't say anything. She's..." Richie trailed off and looked at his friend with a frown. "She's not herself, that's all."

The room was dim but Richie could see that her pieces of horrific art had doubled since he had last seen her. She was lying on her side, her back to the door. Beside him Bill wrinkled his nose and forehead, the smell shocking him slightly, but not as much as the worrisome state Kit seemed to be in.

"Kit? Um, Bill's here," Richie said. That got some movement out of her. She sat up and turned around, looking at the two boys standing in her doorway. Bill couldn't help it, his eyebrows jumped up in shock as he stared at the older girl with wide eyes. Her skin was more pale than usual and she seemed to have lost a lot of weight in the past few weeks since they had last seen each other. Now, her blue-grey eyes seemed wider than ever in her hollow face. 

"Hi, Bill," she murmured, and both boys noticed how shaky her voice was. Richie frowned, taking a step forward.

"Kit... Beverly's gone. It took Beverly."

Kit's previously parted lips joined together to form a thin, straight line, a look of concern passing over her face before she turned away, hair covering her face from view. They watched her sit on her bed for a moment, hands clenching and unclenching, before she stood up. They didn't know what she was thinking, they still couldn't see her face as she paced the area by her windows, but they could hear what she was saying softly to herself.

"Take, take, take... Monsters always take....But not her. That's not... No..."

After a few seconds Kit stopped and turned towards them. 

"When we get her, this'll all end hopefully, won't it?"

"We h-hope so," Bill replied.

 With a solemn look Kit nodded before picking up an article of clothing off the ground.

"Either that or we die," she said softly before nodding once more. "Okay. Let me get ready."

Fifteen minutes later the three of them met up with the other boys, and while Richie saw that this wasn't going to permanently fix whatever it was Kit was going through, at least she wasn't alone.


	14. Into The Well

"Hey Eddie, you got a quarter?" Richie asked as they circled around the desolate well. They had arrived moments earlier and after gathering spikes outside to use as weapons, had made their way into the old house. Now they stood in the basement, staring into the well that they would soon have to go into.

"I wouldn't want to make a wish in that fucking thing," Eddie replied, voicing what everyone else was thinking.

After figuring out a plan on how to get down the well, a stable rope hanging off the well's hook was thrown down into the dark hole. One by one, the group began their decent down, first Bill then Eddie and eventually the others. While Richie had wanted Kit to go before him, she had told him that she would help Mike and make sure that the younger kids went down first.

"It's only the responsible thing to do," she had replied, making Richie grin. He hadn't heard his sister quip a sarcastic comment like that in weeks, and though he had to admit that it wasn't her best, at least she had said it. 

Eventually only Mike and Kit were left, the duo peering down the well to where the boys sat in a small hole in the side of the wall. Mike reached across and took hold of the rope, passing it to Kit.

"You got this?" He asked as she gripped it with both hands. She nodded, about to throw one leg over the side of the well, Mike steading her. Before she could do that, though, there was a thump and suddenly Mike let out a cry of pain before suddenly being pulled backwards. When Kit spun around to see what had happened, she was struck in the face, making her cry out and fall onto the ground. Hearing the boys yell out their names from the well, Kit slowly lifted her head up to find that it wasn't It that had attacked the pair, but -

" _Henry,"_ Kit choked out, the boy pulling the rope out from the well and turning to face her. She was horrified to see that his face was covered in blood.  _That's not Mike's, it can't be_ , she thought, turning to look at the younger boy who was barely conscious. "What... What did you  _do?!_ "

"They're dead," Henry told her, taking a step forward. "All of them, now. First Patrick - your fault - now Victor and Belch... And you."

"Henry, please," Kit begged, struggling up to her feet and putting her hands out in front of her. With the speed of a striking snake, Henry reached out and grabbed her by the wrists, shoving her against the unstable walls of the well. Below she could hear the boys shouting her name. With a scream Kit kicked at Henry, managing to make him lose his grip on her wrists just enough to pull them away and punch him hard in the face. However, her attempt at trying to rush towards where Mike was lying was unsuccessful. With a growl Henry grabbed her hair, tugging her back towards him where he punched her in her stomach, making Kit fall to her knees with a gasp. Half leaning over the side of the well's wall, half standing, Kit stared down to where the other boys were gazing up at her from in the well. Richie looked near tears, seeing her at the mercy of Henry Bowers, and Kit felt her heart hammering in her chest, her blood growing thick. Roughly, Henry grabbed her jaw and twisted her head to look up at him.

"I told you," Henry said, his eyes wild, blood dripping from his face onto hers. "You got on my nerves, Tozier. And Patrick can't save you now.  I'm gonna teach you a lesson." He wrapped a hand around her throat, tightening it with every word he said. "Fuck being my whore. I'm over that. Once I'm finished with you, Tozier, nobody's gonna want to touch you."

Just as he raised his other fist to punch her, there was a yell and suddenly a flash of metal came down upon Henry's back. With a cry Henry's hold loosened around Kit's neck and she took this opportunity to pull away from his grasp, her body throwing itself over the edge of the wall and down into the well.

It was quick, and she had been prepared. She only hoped that the boys would be too. She felt her nails being ripped from her fingers as she clawed at the sides of the well as she fell, knowing that soon there would be a gap and eventually a ledge for her to grab onto, depending on if her aim was correct. Luckily it was, and suddenly her fall was haltered when she grabbed the bottom of the hole that the other boys were hiding in. However, the sudden stop brought on a whole new world of pain in her injured arm and with a scream Kit's hands let go, but her boys had been prepared. With scrabbling hands they grabbed her arms and together pulled her into the hole where Richie hugged her tightly.

"Jesus fucking Christ," he gasped, the other boys rubbing her back or letting out their own words of relief at the fact that she hadn't fallen to her death. Pulling away from her he looked her up and down, eyes filled with worry. "Are you all right?"

Wordlessly she nodded, but she could still hear Henry and Mike fighting from above, and she could still feel his grip around her throat and the words he had used stinging her ears. She looked out of the hole, her heart still hammering and her whole body aching.

"M-Mike!" She called, joining the chorus with the boys. With tears stinging her eyes she backed away from the edge and towards where Stan was sitting at the back. Before either person could say anything to the other, there was a scream, and suddenly a blur of a person fell past their hole and down into the depths of the well, making Richie curse and the others let out other exclamations. The realization that Henry's body falling down the well could've been her almost made Kit throw up, however this feeling was soon followed by relief. Henry had fallen down the well. Henry was dead. And she was free.

"Are you all right?" Stan asked, looking at her.  With shaking hands Kit pulled Stan in for a hug, unable to keep a bubble of laughter escaping her lips.  _He can't hurt me anymore. He can't hurt any of us anymore._ For a long time the pair just sat like that hugging one another until a voice cut through their embrace.

_"Stanley...Catherine..."_

"Beverly?" The pair pulled away from one another, Stan using his flashlight to cut through the darkness. Shooting each other a glance, they slowly shuffled towards the other side of the hole. "Is that you?"

One blink, and suddenly Kit was alone in the sewers. The boys, her brother, Stanley, they were nowhere to be seen. She herself could barely see either. With hands outstretched she walked forward until she found a wall, and with slow, hesitant footsteps she began to follow it's curve, calling out.

"Stanley? Richie? Are you guys there?"

Eventually she found an area that was dimly light and she stepped into it gratefully, eyes slowly beginning to adjust. Finally able to see, Kit turned around to examine the area. However, as soon as she did she heard a noise from the darkness before her. She froze, staring into it and hoping beyond hope that maybe it was Stanley. It wasn't.

Slow footsteps made their way towards her, and although Kit wanted to run she feared that that would only start the chase. She had seen those predator tv shows. As soon as the prey ran, the hunt was on. So she watched the darkness, listened to the footsteps, and soon a silhouette appeared before her. Tall, pale,  _human._ It was a man.

"Cathy?"

She knew that voice. With a trembling jaw Kit shook her head, taking a step backwards as tears began to sting at her eyes.

"No..." She moaned, clenching her fists so hard she was sure her remaining nails would pierce through her skin. "No..."

 _He_ was there.


	15. A Memory Of Summer

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> A heads up, but this is where the rape warning comes into effect, readers, so if you're not comfortable with that then I suggest you skip this chapter.

_He_ was no longer a creature metres taller than herself, or a thing with long limbs and claws for hands.  _He_  looked like  _Him_. He was wearing the same clothes as the last time she had seen him, those jeans and button up lightweight shirt. His hair was like it was just before it happened; light brown and swept back off his face. It had become tousled after it was done, falling forward over his face in thick strands, his face that she could now see. Sharp cheekbones that gave hers a run for its money, strong jaw, the scar on the side of his cheek, the plump lips that had known the taste of her skin. Kit shook her head, taking one step back with every step  _He_  took forward until her back was pressed against the wall of the sewers. She could barely breathe, her legs trembling as she stared at  _him_ , her face stained with tears.  _He_  seemed to notice this.  _He_  smiled.

"A memory of Summer?"  _He_  whispered, and suddenly it was almost three years earlier on an Italian beachside. Kit could see the dawn sky, hear the rolling waves, see  _Him_ -

_"Ciao." Cathy looked up towards the man who had spoken, surprised to see that she wasn't the only one awake at this time of the morning._

_"Ciao," she replied, wincing slightly at how crude her accent made the Italian word sound._

_"Vieni qui spesso?"_

_"Um... I don't understand," Cathy admitted, tilting her head to the side. To her surprise, the man understood what she was saying._

_"You're American?" He pointed out, his accent not Italian. In fact, Cathy couldn't quite pinpoint what accent the man was talking in. It definitely wasn't American or British, but she believed it to be from somewhere in Europe._

_"Yeah, I'm from Maine."_

_"Holiday?"_

_"Yeah."_

_"Where's your family?" The man asked, looking around. It was still only them._

_"They're back at the hotel. I wanted to explore," Cathy explained._

_"A young girl like you exploring an unfamiliar country like this by yourself? Is that safe?" He asked. Cathy laughed, rolling her eyes and putting both hands on her hips._

_"I'm not a child," she stated, making the man chuckle. He liked her fire and the way she popped a hip out while folding her arms across her chest, eyebrows drawn together.  "And anyway, I can see the hotel from here," she continued, nodding in one general direction, her blue eyes flashing from the distance back to him. "I just wanted to see the sunrise."_

_"You like sunrises?"_

_"Yeah. They're pretty."_

_"Well, I know an area around the beach that would be a great place to watch the sunrise from. The light reflects off the rock pools, and inside they've got all these starfish and crabs and other little sea creatures," he told her, looking down the beach. Cathy took a step forward, a grin on her face. So far her parents hadn't let her or Richie explore the beach yet. "There's more to see and do in the town," they had told them, and while Cathy appreciated the museums and art galleries they got to see, she loved the beach too. Plus, she hadn't seen a rock pool in many years, not since the family last went to a beach back in America, and that had been when Richie had just started school._

_"Where is it?"_

_The man smiled and started walking down the empty beach. Curious to see the rock pools and caves, Cathy followed, walking in step with the man. While they walked she asked him questions about why he was in Italy (College studies), where he was from (Sweden), and why he was up so early ("I like watching the sunrise too"). Cathy couldn't help but be intrigued by him. He reminded her of the older kids in her town who had gone off to college and come back so much more interesting and way prettier than when they left. Or perhaps Han Solo, with those smoldering eyes and handsome features._ He could be a movie star, _Cathy thought with a giggle._ Like Harrison Ford.  _With that thought, Cathy couldn't help but become a little distracted in her head, unaware of the green eyes that were scanning the beach. Noticing that there was nobody around, he relaxed and let himself look at the younger girl who believed herself to be older than what she was. She didn't notice, though. She was still thinking about Harrison Ford._

_The pair turned a corner, revealing to Cathy a bunch of small rock pools sitting against the slowly ascending cliffside. With a grin Cathy ran over to them, peering into the slightly dark pools of water. Occasionally she could see a flash of silver or a ripple in the water that signified movement._

_"You'll be able to see them better once the sun comes up," he said from beside her. She straightened up and looked out towards the ocean where the sky was slowly starting to catch on fire._

_"This is pretty," she said._

_"I'm glad you like it," he replied. "Do you wanna sit on the sand?"_

_"Probably more comfortable than the rocks," Cathy joked, before skipping across the rocks and back onto the sand. She sat down, eyes staring at the slowly rising sun. Already she was imagining how this image would look once she painted it._ It'll be one of my greatest pieces of art yet, _she thought, just as the man came and sat next to her._

_"How old are you?" he asked._

_"I've just turned 13," Cathy boasted, liking the sound of her age. She had only turned 13 two weeks ago and at every opportunity she would call herself a teenager.  She had watched_ The Breakfast Club  _multiple times leading up to her birthday, falling in love with Bender and wondering what character matched up with her personality. However, she had just watched_ Ferris Bueller's Day Off  _in the cinema with some friends right after school had ended for the year, and now all she wanted to do was live the same lifestyle as the title character. She told him that part, which made him smile and laugh._

_As his laughter died down and Cathy turned her attention back to the ocean, he_ _reached out and ran his hand through her dark curls, making her jump slightly at the contact._

_"Sorry," the man murmured, Cathy looking at him questioningly. "I didn't mean to frighten you. You've got very lovely hair."_

_"Oh, um, thank you," Cathy replied, shifting uncomfortably. She was suddenly aware of how quiet and secluded this area of the beach was._

_"I never asked you, what's your name?"_

_"C-Cathy," she said softly, refusing to look at him now. There was a knot in her stomach that kept growing tighter and tighter and she looked back towards the area they had walked from. "I should go-"_

_"You're really beautiful, Cathy."_

_Then he touched her thigh._

_"What are you doing?! I don't - no, this is weird - I should go-" Cathy tried to stand up, but he gripped her wrist and pulled her back down._

_"Come on now, I showed you this place, you should thank me-"_

_"T-Thank you for showing me this place, but I have to get back to my family now-" Cathy stammered, pulling against his grip. When he let go of her wrist Cathy thought that she was free, trying to jump to her feet and make a break for it. However, he was just changing his hold. Two hands grabbed her shoulders, pushing her onto her knees, and now he was behind her._

_"Shh, Cathy, it's okay, just relax, you wanted this-" He told her, his breath against the back of her neck as he pressed himself up against her, his hands beginning to wander._

_"No, don't, stop-"_

_"We're just having a little fun-" He was ignoring her feeble attempts at hitting him, as though they were just moth wings against his burning hands. One hand moving up towards her hair, the other on her shoulder, he pressed her down against the sand, the small grains scratching against one side of her face._

_"I don't like this-" She cried, still thrashing against him as he lay on top of her back, pressing kisses against her shoulder._

_"Cathy-" She heard the sound of a zipper being pulled down, felt his hands where they should not be._

_"Stop-"_

_"Cathy-" His lips were on her skin and he was pushing her bare legs apart._

_"You're hurting me!"_

_"Fuck, yes, Cathy-" She thought she was going to die._

_"Let me go, please, let me go!"_

_But he didn't let her go, and no matter how hard she fought against him she found no escape. He was relentless, and she was growing weaker with each of his movements, and eventually her screams become silent cries, her hands digging into the sand that was scratching at her skin. She could not see his face, but through her tears and ahead of her she saw the waves, the ocean, and the sun beginning to rise._

"Cathy..."

All she could see was that sunrise. All she could see was red.

"I hate you!!" She screamed, just as  _He_  ran at her, hands outstretched and like claws once more. With a scream she jumped out of the way before turning and running away. Down one tunnel and turning into another, she ran and ran, sobbing as she shouted her anger to cover the sound of Him whispering her name behind her.

"I hate you! You fucking bastard, I hate you! You can't hurt me again! You can't hurt me anymore!  _I hate you!!_ "

Stumbling into an open area, Kit fell to her knees in a breathless heap, her tears beginning to slow. She could hear Him murmuring her name still, thought she could feel that hot breath against her neck once more. Her chest heaving as she tried to regain her breath, she sat up on her knees, staring straight ahead of her. She was tired inside.  _Am I already dead?_ Kit closed her eyes.

"You...You can't hurt me anymore," she said with deep sighs. "You already destroyed me. There's nothing left to take. Whatever remains... Whatever I might be able to get back... That's all mine. You hurt me and I hate you for it, but I'm not afraid of you anymore." 

The air around her was still but she could hear  _his_  movements. Not once did she open her eyes though, kneeling as still as a statue. She thought she could feel him near her, feel him come to stand in front of her, heard him crouch down and sniff her before he grabbed her already bruised neck. With a hiss that didn't match  _his_ voice, It spoke.

" _Look at me._ "

Faced scrunched up in hate, Kit's blue-grey eyes flashed open and stared at  _Him_ in defiance, his previously green eyes shining a bright gold in anger and confusion. 

"I  _hate_ you," she spat once more. "But I am  _not_ afraid of you."

With a snarl  _he_ threw her aside and suddenly Kit found herself lying in an unfamiliar area, her back burning from the contact of hitting the wall behind her. She didn't know how long she lay there for trying to regain her breath, but after a long time she heard multiple footsteps and suddenly a bright light was shining down on her. Before she knew it she was engulfed by her group of boys who were all chorusing her name.

"What happened?! Are you all right?!" Richie gripped her hands tightly, looking at her with worry.

"Where'd you go? Was it It??" Ben asked, looking around cautiously while Mike stood over the group, gun in hand just in case.

"Where's Stanley? Where'd he go?!" Eddie said as the group helped Kit to her feet. She frowned, clinging to her brother and looking around.  _He_ was gone.

"I - But he was - I don't understand," Kit breathed, looking at them all. " _He_ \- It - It had me. It could've killed me but... I don't understand -"

The tunnels filled with Stan's screams, and suddenly the group were running towards the source of the noise. After breaking through a sewer door, the group spilled into a large, empty area, calling out for their friend. Eventually they found Stan's abandoned flashlight. Picking it up, the light pooled over the area they were in and revealed to the group a horrifying sight. There, lying on his back, was Stan, but covering his face with rows of teeth was a monster. Kit screamed, joined with the rest of the group, and she watched as the woman lifted herself away from Stan with a terrifying grin. Her heart accelerating faster than a hummingbird's wings, Kit watched as the woman slinked backwards into a hole in the wall, hiding herself away from them before It appeared, It's clown face covered in blood and making the group scream once more. When It finally disappeared, the group rushed towards Stanley, calling his name. For a moment he was still, but as soon as the group surrounded him he began screaming and yelling, pulling away from them in tears as they tried to calm him.

"No! You left me, you aren't my friends! You made me go, you made me go! You made me go to Neibolt. This is your fault," the boy sobbed as several arms wrapped around him. Kit hugged the younger boy close to her, whispering along with the others words of comfort.

"I'm sorry, I'm sorry," she murmured, closing her eyes tightly as a sickening thought raced through her mind.  _It was with you. It would've killed you, but for some reason it didn't. Whatever that reason, It ended up going after Stanley instead. That should've been you getting your face ripped off by a monster. That should've been you, not him. It went after Stanley instead and that's on you._ "I'm so sorry, Stanley..."

It was Eddie who realized that Bill had disappeared without them. Standing up and calling their friend's name, Eddie began following him, Mike right behind him. One by one the group began to move again, but Stanley was still shaken. As her brother stood up Kit began to disentangle Stanley from her, taking his hand and looking into his swimming, fearful eyes.

"I'm sorry, Stanley," she said again. "I'm so sorry. But we're not safe by ourselves sitting here. We have to go."

After a moment Stanley used his free hand to wipe his eyes before standing up, Kit doing the same. Without a word the three of them caught up to the others and together they did their best to follow Bill's trail, Kit never letting go of Stanley's hand.


	16. Fear

At first, Kit was confused. Not just because of the fact that, a few metres above the ground, Beverly was currently floating in mid air. No, it was the mountain next to her.  _How can a mountain be down here?_ However, she soon realized that the mountain was made up of circus props and - more shockingly - children's items. Kit swallowed, turning her attention away from the pile when Eddie spoke, his flashlight trailing up the mountain.

"Guys, are those..."

"The missing kids... Floating," Stan finished, and Kit felt her heart clench as she stared up at all the children. There was no sign that they were alive, but part of Kit believed that it was too late for them. If the sewers were It's home, then this must've been It's kitchen. Kit couldn't help but think of Patrick, distracted as the others began trying to get Beverly down.  _Is he up there? Will I find his corpse today? But I never said goodbye._  It wasn't until Stan squeezed her hand gently that she was able to pay attention once more, turning to see that Beverly was now back on the ground standing before Ben, but still in some kind of trance, her eyes greyed over.

"Bev. Beverly. Why isn't she waking up? What's wrong with her?!" Ben cried, looking at the others as though they had the answer. Kit couldn't reply, though, too concerned over Beverly's state. If they had lost her... "Beverly, please! Come on!"

Without another word, and in an act of fairytale - like desperation, Ben leaned forward and kissed her. The group couldn't help but exclaim at the sudden embrace, with Kit having to look away in slight embarrassment. After a tense moment of no reaction, Beverly suddenly let out a gasp. Eyes back to their normal colour, she stared at Ben.

"January embers?" she whispered.

"My heart burns there too," Ben replied with a grin. With a smile and a little laugh, Kit let a wave of relief pass over her. She was glad that Beverly was okay, and with her brother and the others they swooped in on the pair and embraced them in their arms. Kit let her hand come to rest on her shoulder, squeezing it softly. In return she felt the girl's smaller hand squeeze her upper arm.  _If I were to have a sister, I'd want it to be her_ , Kit thought, before Beverly suddenly looked up.

"Where's Bill?"

Her question was answered a few minutes later when the group walked around the mountain, revealing Bill. However, he wasn't the only one there. Letting out a small gasp, Kit covered her mouth with her good hand. There, standing in front of Bill, was Georgie. The kid was dirty and missing an arm, however he looked healthy enough considering he had been missing for months. In one hand he held a paper boat. Beside her Kit turned to catch her brother's eyes. His brown eyes said what a small voice in her head had already been whispering:  _That's not Georgie._ Swallowing, Kit turned back to the scene before them, tears prickling at her eyes. She could only imagine how difficult this was for Bill. They couldn't hear exactly what they were talking about, but there were moments where Georgie's high voice cut through the silence of the sewers. It broke Kit's heart to hear him beg to come home, knowing the truth that lay behind that young face. Eventually, Bill lifted Mike's spike gun up and held it against his little brother's head, who began to sob until - with a bang - they cut off and Georgie fell backwards. 

It was silent. It was too quiet. Everyone was still, their eyes locked on the small body that lay on the ground. Kit could sense what everyone else was thinking:  _Have we made a mistake? Was that really Georgie?_ Kit felt like she was going to be sick even thinking that. Suddenly, Georgie began to shake, letting out a wail that didn't sound entirely human. As he shook, an arm grew from beneath his sleeve, writhing like a worm as it began to take form. The wails became more gutteral, animal - like, and all around her the group grew tense, readying themselves for whatever was to happen next.

The costume came first. Then, one by one, his limbs grew out. With a gasp, It sat up, slouched over in front of them in a sitting position. Kit could hear the panic rising in her friend's throats, could hear her own gasps that felt as though they were ripping their way out of her throat. It wasn't loud enough to mask the sound of her heartbeat, though, which felt like a freight train rumbling through her ears. When It suddenly lurched to its feet, the group started stepping backwards, and Kit heard Eddie scream,  _"Kill it, Bill!"_

A chorus of shouts and screams echoed him, Richie only being able to repeat the words "shit." Kit stared in open - mouth horror as It lifted his face up towards Bill, his eyes slowly rolling towards the front.

"Jesus fucking Christ, kill it!" Kit screamed, shaking like a leaf. " _Fucking kill it!_ "

She was aware of Mike's voice cutting through the shouts, surprisingly calm in this moment of horror, however she couldn't make out the words. She was too busy staring at It, watching as Bill fumbled with the gun and pointed it at the clown's head. She heard him again, though, louder:

"Hey, it's not loaded!"

Bill pulled the trigger, and a spiderweb of cracks emerged in its forehead. However, It didn't fall. It began to shake, leaning backwards and letting out a screech as It leaned forward again, eyes dead set on Bill. With a curse Richie grabbed his sister's hand and pulled her away when It leapt forward, pulling Bill onto the ground and attempting to bite him. Quickly, Bill used the gun to put some distance between It's teeth and his face, before Beverly showed up.

"Leave him alone!" She cried, going to stab him with the spike. However, It grabbed it and threw it aside, teeth growing out of its mouth as the clown let out a growl. With a scream Kit picked up the closest object - a wooden post - and raced in front of Beverly, bringing it down across Its face. However, luck was not on her side, and what she had thought was a sturdy post turned out to be half rotten on the inside. It splintered across the clown's face, barely hurting It. Without a word It reached out and grabbed her by the collar of her dress, chucking her aside as though she were a cloth doll. Kit hit the floor hard on her back, losing all the oxygen in her body. She felt hands on her just as she heard a scream from Mike rip through the area. Sitting her up, Stanley rubbed her back to help her to breathe again before the pair looked up to find the others swarming It. Together the pair ran towards them, Stan going for It's arm while Kit jumped on next to her brother, wrapping her legs around Its side, hitting and biting his shoulder and upper arm, careful not to hurt Ben who was also attacking the same limb. Soon, though, the clown began to spin until suddenly Ben was thrown from It, then Stanley, then Kit herself. Before she could even sit up from the ground her brother had landed on her, knocking her right back down. As the pair disentangled themselves they stared breathlessly as Bill was also thrown off It's back. However, instead of letting him fly like he had the others, It locked Bill in its arms, making the kids cry out for their friend who was trapped by the monster.

"Let him go," Beverly said, Kit and Richie staring from the ground while the others stood behind them. The clown shook its head.

"No. I'll take him. I'll take all of you. And I'll feast on your flesh as I feed on your fear," It taunted, Kit grabbing her brother's hand fearfully. With a growing smile, It lifted one finger up, wagging it in the air before continuing. "Oooorrrr you'll just leave us be. I will take him, only him. And then I'll have my long rest and you will all live to grow old and thrive and lead happy lives until old age takes you back to the weeds."

"Leave," Bill choked out, staring at them all. "I'm the one who dragged you all into this I'm s-s-s-s-, I'm s-s-sorry."

"S-s-s-s-sorry," It mocked before chuckling darkly.

"Go!" Bill cried, but the group was silent. Kit stared at her brother. She just wanted him to be safe, and if this was one guaranteed way for this to happen.... Her brother's wide eyes behind his glasses stared back at her.  _Coward_ , she heard a small voice in her head say.  _You always side with the monsters if that's what will keep you safe._

 _But it's not about me this time,_ she thought, feeling her brother grip her hand tighter than before.  _It's about him. My brother. It's about keeping him safe._ The idea still made Kit want to throw up, though. 

"Guys, we can't," Beverly exclaimed.

"Sorry, Bill," Richie said softly before standing up, Kit's eyes following her brother as he continued to speak. "I told you, Bill. I fucking told you, I don't want to die... It's your fault." Hearing her brother says those things to Bill made Kit want to jump up and put a hand over his mouth, but she didn't. She just allowed her heart to sink even lower than what it already was.

"You punched me in the face," he carried on, pacing the area in front of her. "You made me walk through shitty water, you brought me to a fucking crackhead-house. And now..."

Kit watched as her brother pulled out a bat from the mountain, and she clenched her fists.  _We might die. But you've never felt more alive than in this moment, so might as well go out fucking swinging._  

"I'm gonna have to kill this fucking clown." With anger and a promise of death in his eyes, It shoved Bill aside as it stood up. "Welcome to the losers club, asshole!"

With a roar It strided towards her brother who swiftly smacked him over the face with the bat. Getting to her feet, Kit watched as Mike went to hit It in the face with a metal post before it was stopped, burnt hands crawling out of its mouth and gripping the post tightly. Without a word Stanley brought a metal pipe down on the hands, It turning its attention towards him who fought back, making the clown flail around, Mike falling in front of It. Arms turning into that of an insects, It chased after Mike who had to swiftly role away. Catching her gaze, Kit picked up a large piece of broken glass and ran towards the clown, jumping onto its back and attempting to slit its throat. While she managed to get a deep enough wound for it to hurt, It screaming in pain, it wasn't enough to kill. She felt Its sticky black blood pour over her hands, mixing with her own wound she had attained from gripping the glass too hard, before Its hand reached around and grabbed her. Pulling her around to face him, Its fingers wrapped around her neck and lifted her up, claw-like talons piercing her skin. When she looked down she saw that Its face had been replaced with  _His._ With a grin he pulled her towards him, that same predator look in his eyes that she had seen on that beach almost three years ago. Feeling a fire in her heart she threw her head forward, head-butting him in the face. Apparently not expecting that, It let go, dropping her to the floor in front of Mike. Before It could do anything else, though, It let out a screech as more blood floated out of its body. Looking around him Kit realized that Ben had stabbed the creature from behind. As Ben struggled with It, Kit watched as Bill grabbed some chains and whipped it across It, releasing Ben.

By that point it was over for It. Everyone had some kind of weapon in hand, Kit finding herself an abandoned hockey stick in the pile, and together they circled It as it crawled around on the floor, unable to find an escape route. One by one the group delivered hard blows against It, knocking the monster back down to the floor whenever it attempted to get up. There was a pause when It threw up all over Eddie, making the boy scream murder and kick It in its face. Before they could continue beating the creature to Hell, It's face changed to that of Beverly's father. Staring up at her creepily, Mr Marsh spoke.

"Hey Bevvie, are you still my little girl-" With a scream Beverly stabbed her metal spike through the mouth of her father, eventually the face changing back it Its. Taking a step back, the group watched as It spat the spike out. Expecting It to come charging at them, Kit prepared herself, holding the hockey stick tightly with two hands above her, charged up on adrenalin, hatred, and anger. However, It fell backwards and while gasping for breath, began scuttling backwards away from them as together they slowly advanced. Its back hitting the circular wall of a deep well, It stared up at them with golden eyes, gasping and chuckling but staring at them cautiously. With shock Kit realized that there was no terrifying look in its eyes, just fear. Its smile turned to a fearful frown, bottom lip trembling.

"That's why you didn't kill Beverly. Cause s-s-s-s-she wasn't afraid," Bill stated, making Kit come to her own realization of what had occurred earlier.  _I'm not afraid of you anymore_ , she had stated. She stared at the clown, watched it shake uncontrollably as Bill continued. "And we aren't either, not anymore. Now you're the one that's afraid, because you're gonna starve."

With a grimace It rolled backwards, arms clinging to the side of the well as it looked up at them from the hole, murmuring softly to itself as they stepped closer.

"He thrusts his hands against the post...and still insists he sees the ghost," It murmured, Stan handing his metal pipe over to Bill. "He thrusts his hands against the p-p-p-p-post."

As Bill lifted the pipe to deliver the final blow, the clown let its grip loosen until only its fingertips were hanging onto the edge. Looking over at Its face, they watched as its head began to break away like plaster, floating in the air. With one golden eyes focused on them, It spoke. 

"Fear..."

And then It let go and fell into the darkness, leaving only floating fragments behind. After a moment of silence and still staring into the darkness, Richie spoke.

"I know what I'm doing for my summer experience essay."

With a shaky smile Kit tugged on her brother's arm, pulling him around and hugging him tightly to her, his own arms wrapping around her thin frame. She felt absolutely shattered, Summer's events suddenly hitting her all at once. She would've collapse right then and there had Eddie not spoken.

"Hey guys. The kids are floating down."

Sure enough, when Kit looked up she saw the children lowering. She felt her brother take her hand in his and when she looked down at him he gave her a sad smile, reading her mind.  _If he hasn't already been devoured, Patrick may be there._ The sound of Bill dropping his pipe turned her attention towards him, and with her brother the pair made their way to where he was kneeling. In his hands he held a yellow raincoat, Georgie's name printed into the collar. Richie knelt down next to his best friend, Kit following suit behind him, and as Bill began to sob the group came together around him, hands on his shoulder and back, silently comforting the boy over his loss. Feeling tears beginning to spill down her own cheeks, Kit wrapped one arm around her brother's shoulder, the other around Bill's, and together the group joined up in a hug. Ben was on her brother's side, Stan right next to her, Beverly behind her slightly and pressing her face against Bill's hair. With a sniff Kit pressed her face against her brother's hair, looking at the raincoat.  _It could've been him_ , she thought, tears falling into her brother's dark locks.  _I could've lost him._ Closing her eyes tightly Kit pressed a kiss against her brother's head. He was alive. They were alive. 


	17. The Tozier Siblings

As soon as they walked into the house, Kit had made a beeline for the bathroom. An hour later she emerged, dressed in clean clothes and her hair wet from having washed it. She looked better than she had in weeks, but Richie noticed that she was just as silent as before. She walked into the kitchen, made herself a bowl of cereal, and devoured it in a few short minutes. By that time Richie had made himself a grilled cheese, but instead of eating it himself he passed it over to his sister. She ate it, and while Richie felt like this was another victory - first she had showered, now she was eating - she was still silent.  

When both siblings had eaten as much as they could, that day's events took its toll on them both and they ended up falling asleep in the living room, Kit stretched out on the couch, Richie curled up on the armchair. When their parents returned home late that night they tried to wake the pair up, failing their attempts. Deciding that the pair must've had a very busy day - Richie was always out and about in town, and this was the first time they'd seen their teenage daughter in weeks, who they believed must've been living an incredibly active social life - they let them continue to sleep.

Two hours after their parents had retired for the night, Richie was woken up by Kit. Unknown to him, but Kit had been up for the past hour now, sitting in the dark of the living room and staring at her brother's sleeping form. He was a snorer, a sleep-mumbler, and he always looked younger than he was in unconsciousness. That's what made her decision so difficult. She was plagued by that older sibling curse, the one that stopped you from seeing your younger sibling as a person above the age of seven. He was still so young in her eyes, but today had broken that image in her head. He was older than what she thought. He was almost thirteen. 

"I need your help," Kit had whispered. Half an hour later the siblings were outside in the dark and their fire pit was alive with flames, the only light to be seen in the area. Kit chucked the collection of papers filled with her horrifying sketches and artworks into the fire, the flames devoured them hungrily while the edges of the paper curled like the bottom of her hair. They didn't speak as they watched them burn, but Richie got the feeling that there was something on Kit's mind that she wanted to get out. At first he waited, but after awhile he decided that maybe she needed a prompt. He looked up at his sister, opened his mouth, and then closed it once more when he noticed the glimmer of tears trailing her face. 

"Kit.." Richie watched as - with one word from him - his sister's face crumbled. What had been silent tears changed to ones filled with choked back sobs as his sister tried to keep quiet, pressing her fists against her mouth to stifle the noise. "Hey, hey, don't do that, it's okay. What's wrong?" 

"I'm been so tired, Rich," she sobbed, wiping at her tears only for more to appear. "So tired. And it hurt so much... I didn't think anyone would believe me... Or that they'd blame me for what happened. But I'm  _tired_  and I can't - I can't do this anymore."

"What do you mean?" Richie asked, glancing at her arms before looking towards the house. He had never seen his sister in such a state before, it was almost as scary as when she was silent and withdrawn in her room. With swimming blue eyes Kit lifted her gaze away from the fire and towards her brother.

"I'm sorry... I never told you. I thought you were too young, but I thought that I was too young too, and all those kids that - that It took... Age doesn't matter, does it? Not in this world," she said sadly, choking on her tears and the reality of the world they lived in.

"Kit-"

"You wanted to know about the faceless man," Kit interrupted. Richie froze, staring at his sister with wide eyes.

"You-You're gonna tell me about the faceless man?" He said softly. With a sniff Kit nodded.

"I'm gonna tell you, and then I'm gonna tell mom and dad, and then... And then hopefully things get better. I don't know. But I'm tired, and this has been sucking away whatever life I have left in me since it happened," Kit admitted, feeling her stomach churning. Almost three years she had been sitting on this, and now...

"What happened, Kit?" Richie asked. After a moment of silence Kit took her brother's hands in hers and let out a shaky breath, looking down at their intertwined hands.

"It was Italy. There was a man..."

Richie had heard about things like that on TV. News reports about it happening. Sometimes a TV show would have an episode about it. But he never believed it was something that would happen to someone he knew, especially his sister. He suddenly thought about all the dirty comments he would make about girls and felt the shame run hot to his cheeks. He never meant anything by them, of course, but he realized that there were some people out there who did. While part of him wanted to say that she was right earlier on, that he was too young to be hearing about this, he realized that he was nearing the same age his sister was when it happened to her. And it did happen to her. 

"I was raped, Richie," Kit finally finished, her head bent while the fire continued to flicker, making the tears on her face shine. "And it made me scared, and it made me weak, and it broke me apart. That's why I made everyone start calling me Kit, because everytime someone called me Cathy I could only think of him. That's why I stopped showing my arms, because at least when I was doing that I was actually feeling something again, something that I controlled and that wasn't fear or numbness. That's... That's why I started hanging out with Henry and Patrick and the others. Because you can't get hurt by the monsters when you're in their group... When you're one of the monsters too."

"Jesus fucking Christ, Kit," Richie breathed, unable to stop his own tears from falling down his face. Kit looked up at him, face still crumpled in unhappiness.

"I'm sorry. I had my reasons for being with that group, but still. I never did enough for you, Richie. I'm sorry."

"Don't-" Richie cut off, pulling off his glasses and wiping his eyes. "It's not your fault, Kit. None of it is your fault. I'm..." Without another word he stepped forward and wrapped his arms around his sister's shoulders, hugging her tightly to him. For awhile the siblings stayed like that, locked in that hug with both of them crying onto each other's shoulders. When it seemed like there were no more tears to cry, Kit pulled away and wiped her brother's face dry with the sleeves of her dress.

"I'm never gonna lie to you again, Richie. I promise," she sniffed, staring at the blotchy face of her little brother. Even though she had had her doubts about telling him, she felt lighter than she had in almost three years, and in the end he had taken it better than she had expected. He had - in an almost sad and upsetting way - understood what she had told him. "No more secrets between us, okay?"

"I promise too," Richie vowed, looking up at his sister's face solemnly. "I'll always have your back, Kit."

"I know. Saw that when you kicked that clown's ass," Kit joked, making the pair laugh slightly. Sniffing, Kit smiled at Richie. "Thank you."

Taking Kit's hand Richie smiled back at her before turning towards the fire. Kit did the same, watching as the flames destroyed the images she had created. They didn't need to live in watercolour or oils or charcoal now. There were other ways she could get the horrors out. Those images of them she could lock away, unable to harm her. There was an image that caught her eye, an image of  _him_ , but soon enough the flames devoured it, burning the picture to ash.  He no longer existed. She was free. 


	18. Blood Oath

School was starting in a week, but Summer's hold still gripped the town of Derry. The sun was hot, the air muggy, and kids were making the most of their last week of freedom. As the Tozier siblings walked down the road towards the clearing, they came across Eddie and Stan who were also making their way to the meeting place. With a whoop Richie ran at Eddie and Stan, jumping on the former while the latter laughed. Struggling out of her brother's grip, Eddie chased Richie down the street, leaving the other two to walk together, chuckling at the pair's hijinks. 

"Are you feeling better, Kit - I mean Cathy," Stan asked, wincing slightly at his mistake. Only three days after the battle in the sewers, Kit had told the group that she wanted to be called Cathy again. She had said that after finishing her story, one that had left the group shocked and Beverly in tears, holding the older girl's hand tightly as she had struggled through it. The whole time Richie had sat on the other side of his sister, far more protective than usual. At this announcement of her nickname change, the group had been supportive, with Richie declaring: 

"She's reclaiming her name. She's Cathy Tozier once more because that's her name, and it belongs to her."

Since then, Cathy had been in and out of hospital, going to therapy and learning how to move forward from what had happened to her when she was 13. She had told them that once school started she would be heading to a psychiatric center outside of Derry for six weeks. At first, she had refused to go to the center. However, after hearing more details about the place and listening to Richie asking her to reconsider, that all he wanted was for her to heal, she changed her mind. Her parents would've sent her sooner, apparently, but she had begged to spend the rest of the Summer with her friends. Stan had been happy about that. He liked spending time with Cathy. 

"Better than what I used to feel," She admitted, looking down at the boy with a smile. "Sometimes things get difficult - Nightmares, you know."

"Yeah, I do," Stan admitted, thinking about all the nightmares he had had since the sewer fight. It haunted him in his dreams every night now, and whenever his wounds would pulse in pain he would panic, thinking that the demon clown was back to kill him. Cathy looked away from him, down at her own wound from It that had finally been stitched up properly. Despite her initial fears about going to the hospital, her doctors hadn't locked her up or put her in a straight jacket as soon as they had seen her scars. With her parents present - finally active in their children's lives after Kit had blown up at them about what had happened and how more than ever she needed them there for both her and Richie - they had all worked together and created a therapy programme that Cathy was currently doing, also suggesting the rehab center. After a few sessions in therapy, Cathy had slowly started dressing for the hot weather: Her long-sleeved dresses were gone. Now she wore a tanned singlet and blue jean shorts. Sometimes she disliked the looks she would receive from people in town whenever they would see her arms, but Richie would remind her that they didn't matter and she was free to do whatever the fuck she wanted. At the moment, she didn't want to hide. She wanted to move forward. 

"Stan..." Cathy trailed off, looking at him. He was staring at her intently, curiously, waiting for her to continue. "What happened in the sewer... When It was with me looking like... like Him... I told It that I wasn't afraid. Because of that, It didn't kill me. It left me alone and went after you instead."

She stopped walking, turning to face Stanley properly. 

"I'm sorry. If I hadn't have said that It wouldn't have attacked you. If I hadn't have said that-"

"Then It would've killed you," Stanley finished. He smiled softly up at her. "What happened was terrifying, it really was. And it hurt. But, Cathy, it's not your fault. You didn't tell It to come and attack me. You didn't even know that It would leave you alone after you said that. It's not your fault."

With a slightly bashful smile, Stan looked away from Cathy and began walking once more, the older girl following next to him. 

"And... You know...I'm glad It didn't kill you, or... or really hurt you that day. I don't know what I would've done if It had hurt you bad," he mumbled, avoiding Cathy's gaze. A silence fell over the pair, Richie and Eddie's voices rising and falling in volume in front of them. His heart beating hard against his ribcage, Stanley thought to himself,  _If you can survive a clown attack, you can survive this_. Quickly, his cheeks blushing red, he spoke. "IkindofhaveacrushonyousoI'mgladtheclowndidn'tkillyou."

"Sorry, Stan, I kinda..." Cathy tilted her head to the side, slightly confused at what he had just said. Stopping, Stan turned and looked up at Kit, face still red with embarrassment and nervousness. 

"I said that I kind of have a crush on you, so... So I'm glad that stupid clown didn't kill you, or hurt you, because... Well, because I have a crush on you," Stan repeated, his voice becoming quieter towards the end. With a small smile Cathy looked at the younger boy, his curly head bandaged up and his face matching the colour of his shirt. She looked down at his hand and took it softly in hers.

"I'll be completely honest with you, Stan. It's kinda hard for me to feel the same way about you just because you've been friends with Richie since you guys were all born, so all of you - Bill, Eddie, you - you guys are like three extra brothers," she admitted, making Stan frown slightly in disappointment. "But... But I really love you too, Stan. And, you know, if it makes you feel a little better, I've always preferred you over all the other boys."

"R-Really?" Stan said, staring at her in surprise. "I would've thought you would like Bill-"

"I do like Bill. I also relate to him. But out of the whole Loser's club: Boys Edition, you're my favourite."

"Oh," Stan exclaimed, and he couldn't help but smile happily at that. With a little chuckle Cathy leaned down and kissed his cheek gently before pulling away and tilting her head towards Richie and Eddie.

"Come on, let's catch up with those losers and see what shit they've been gossiping about now," she smiled, jogging off to join the two boys. Stan watched her run, taking a moment to relish that little kiss before he raced after her, the pair joining up with the other two just as the broke through the tree line and saw the others already sitting together in a circle. 

"I only remember parts," Beverly said, the circle complete and their topic turning towards the fight and what Beverly saw when she was floating. The group listened intently as she began to describe what happened. "But... I thought i was dead. That's what it felt like. I saw us, saw us together, back in the cistern, but we were older... I mean our parents ages."

"W-w-w-what were we all doing there?" Bill stammered, asking a question they were all thinking.

"I just remembered how we felt, how scared we were, I don't think I can ever forget that," Beverly said quietly. With a determined look on his face Bill stood up.

"Swear," he said, looking at each member of the group solidly in their eyes. "Swear if It isn't dead, if It ever comes back, we'll come back too."

The group stared at each other, eyes hesitant. Cathy felt her bite mark burn slightly at the thought of having to return to fight It. She would be in her early 40s if that were to happen. She hoped that by that time she would have made a life for herself out of Derry, perhaps. She didn't like the idea of returning to fight It. However, she didn't want anyone else to go through what they had experienced, and out of everyone in the world they were the only ones who knew how they could defeat It once and for all. As Beverly stood up, then slowly the others, Cathy joined in, her eyes narrowed at the thought of seeing It again.  _Fucking clown... I hope you're dead, but if you're not, then see you in twenty-seven years. We'll put you in the ground then, asshole._

One by one Bill went around the group using a broken piece of glass to cut a line across everyone's palms. When he reached her and saw her holding her hand out, his eyes danced across the thin scars that marked her arms and he hesitated, looking up at her and beginning to regret his decision to make it a blood oath. Noticing his reluctance, Cathy took his shaking hand in hers and pressed the tip of the glass against her palm, looking at him with a soft smile.

"It's okay," she said gently. With another hesitant look Bill finally nodded, pressing down and dragging the glass across her palm. With a little wince Kit looked down to see a small stream of blood beginning to stain her hand red. She clenched it shut when Bill pulled the glass away and moved on to the next person. 

Standing hand in hand with one another, the promise was made. 

"I gotta go," Stan said when it was done, looking around the group with a frown before focusing on Bill. "I hate you."

A small pause, and then the group were smiling and laughing with one another, Stan shaking his head with a grin.  "I'll see you later."

A chorus of, "Bye, Stanley," followed the young boy as he left the clearing. Slowly, others began to leave too. Eddie, then Mike, and then eventually Richie and Cathy decided it was time to go too.

"See you later, losers," Richie said as Cathy gave Beverly a hug. The younger girl looked up at Cathy with a smile, holding her hand tightly. 

"Write when you can," Beverly asked Cathy, who nodded.

"Of course," she replied, before going over to join her brother and waving goodbye to the others. As they walked back towards the road, Richie shoved her playfully with his shoulder.

"So what were you and Stan talking about when we were walking over?" He asked, making Cathy grin.

"Nothing," she replied coyly. "Changing the subject, however, what are we doing for the rest of the day?"

"Can't say, only that as soon as we get home you have to go straight to your room," Richie demanded.

"Why?"

"You're birthday present, duh. I have to set it up," Richie said before grinning. "Not every day you turn 16, sis, especially when there's a murderous fucking clown running about."

"Not anymore," she laughed, Richie joining in. He threw his fists up, punching the air in front of him as though It was there.

"Bitch, just you try and stop my sister from having her sweet 16, I'll knock the clown out of you!" He cried, and together the siblings laughed, Cathy joining in with her brother as they karate kicked and punched the air. She knew they probably looked stupid, jumping around on the road as they made their way home, but they were having fun and they were together and alive, and after the Summer they had, that was all that mattered. 


	19. Epilogue: The Artist

So maybe one day I'll be back in this town. In all honesty, I hope that Beverly's vision was wrong. I've got my life planned out now. My therapist told me that I should think about the things I really want to do in the future, no matter how small it may be. So I'm looking forward to graduating. I'm looking forward to maybe going to an art college somewhere, like New York. I'm looking forward to city lights, galleries, and a place that is far away from here. But there's a feeling I can't shake. We never saw It die, so it's only reasonable to assume that this isn't over. 

Sometimes I feel a pain in my arm as though It is biting me again. It's a white hot flash that makes me jump and clutch at it to make sure it's still there. And sometimes I find myself getting fearful of  _Him_ , but after a moment I remind myself that he can't hurt me anymore. My name is Cathy, and he doesn't hold his power over me now.

We've got a long road ahead of us. The things we went through with It cannot be shared with anyone else. If I ever told my therapist or any adults about It, they'd definitely lock me up and think I had properly lost it. It's going to take a long time to recover from the trauma of it all (if we ever recover from It). But this is The Losers Club, and in our club we all have each other's back. We'll support each other.

But I've finished what I had to say. This writing thing was therapeutic, but I'll be damned if I ever do this again. Words are too much for me. I hope they won't make me write at the psychiatric center. Fuck that. 

I can hear Richie calling my name from downstairs. My easel and art supplies wait. I think I'll paint a sunrise.

Cathy Tozier xx

 

_**End of IT: Chapter One** _

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Well my lovely readers, that's the end for Part one of this fic! The second half will come out once the next film does, and with that we'll see where Cathy is 27 years in the future. For now, though, I'll list this fic as completed (because Chapter One of this fic is)  
> Hope to catch you guys for round two <3


	20. - Chapter Two -

**\- C A S T -**

Lara Pulver **as** Catherine "Cathy" Tozier

James McAvoy **as** William "Bill" Denbrough

Bill Skarsgård **as** It / Pennywise the Dancing Clown

Andy Bean **as** Stanley "Stan" Uris

Jay Ryan **as** Benjamin "Ben" Hanscom

Jessica Chastain **as** Beverly "Bev" Marsh

Bill Hader **as** Richard "Richie" Tozier

James Ransone **as** Edward "Eddie" Kaspbrak

Isaiah Mustafa **as** Michael "Mike" Hanlon

Katherine Langford **as** Judith Artemis "Tess" Tozier

 

**\- P L A Y L I S T -**

_ **Chapter Two** _

Victoria Falls - Flyte  
_"When Victoria falls//No one knows//How low she goes."_

Woman - Cat Power ft. Lana Del Rey _  
"Doctor said I was not my past // He said I was finally free."_

Praying - Kesha  
_"I'll bring thunder, I'll bring rain."_

Hunger - Florence and The Machine  
_"Oh and you in all your vibrant youth//How could anything bad ever happen to you?"_

Slip Away - Oh Wonder  
_"Oh, my, my, my//Oh, how I tried."_

Vesuvius - Sufjan Stevens  
_"The murdering ghost//That you cannot ignore."_

hope is a dangerous thing for a woman like me to have - but I have it - Lana Del Rey  
_"Monsters still under my bed that I could never fight off."_

Ancient Names Pt. I - Lord Huron  
_"If I can't evade my fate // Then I won't sit around and wait."_

When It's Cold I'd Like to Die - Moby and Mimi Goese  
_"What was that, my sweet sweet nothing//I can't hear you through the fog."_

Lovely - Billie Eilish ft. Khalid _  
"Oh, I hope some day I'll make it out of here."_

 

_ **["I am the maid to your Judith. I live to see you fight. I fight to see you live."]**   
_

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The It: Chapter Two trailer has been released which means that it's time to drop a hint of what's to come next in this fic! A teaser for all you Gone Girl fans and supporters out there <3


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